Undercurrents
by Ennui-EAF
Summary: Standard disclaimers. Sequel to 'Hidden Intents'. Post-OotP. Draco's 6th year, potions, problems and unexpected romace. What danger is stalking our heros now?
1. Beginning

***Author's Note:  Originally, I had planned "Hidden Intents" as a stand-alone story.  That meant I didn't have to worry about the passage of time and how the advent of Book 5 would affect my characters.  

But since finishing "HI", I've had a yen to write Draco, and then Harry's stories.  This means I have to get a little, um, 'creative' in my solutions to certain problems.  

Therefore, for the purposes of this story we're going to assume that the events of Book 5 occurred in the second half of the year.  In other words, Umbridge, the DA and Sirius dying all happened AFTER Christmas and the events of "Hidden Intents".  Let's also pretend that Draco did NOT serve in Umbridge's little gang.  I apologize if this causes confusion, but just stretch those big brains of yours.  *smile*

And now, without further ado:  Draco's Story!

Disclaimer:  I own nothing you recognize.  If it's not in The Books, it's mine.

Chapter 1

Sonora hummed as she reviewed her lesson plans for the fifth time that day.  So what if she had barged in on Severus in his office only an hour ago, just to ask him if he really thought the third-years should do the Wakening Potion, and did they have enough blubberpus to last until the first Hogsmead visit?

Severus had glared at her and snarled something along the lines of "if she asked him one more time, he'd demonstrate a new use for the aforementioned blubberpus", at which point she'd been unable to keep from giggling.  Sonora paused and grinned, remembering.  He was just so damn cute when he got evil.  Besides, it always gave her the perfect opportunity to kiss him.  After all, she had to leave him with a smile, didn't she?

She shuffled her notes once more, and then stacked them neatly in the top drawer of her desk.  Sighing, she gazed around the empty classroom.  Students were due to arrive any minute, and she should really be getting upstairs for the welcoming feast.  

But for a moment, she savored the stillness of the cool, damp stone walls and the slight crackle of the fire burning in the hearth.  Ah, potions, she thought.  Was there anything more appealing than the sound of something bubbling in a cauldron?  More satisfying than a successful brewing?

Just then the classroom door slammed open, and Severus appeared, scowling.  "Sonora," he said, in those silky tones that said his patience was running short.  "Will you _please_ hurry up and finish?  The first years are about to arrive, and the Headmaster does prefer to have all his professors present at the Welcoming Feast."  His hair, still longer than most, hung to his shoulders.  His nose was still prominent, and his skin still pale.  But some of the care had faded from his face since the events of last year, and his eyes, those dark, deep pools, were still intense and glittering.  Not to mention that lovely body was still as lovely as ever.  

Sonora smiled and reached for her cane.  Well, maybe there was _one_ thing better than Potions.  

Draco stared blankly down at his plate.  The house elves had made quite a feast for the Welcome Banquet, but he didn't really have much of an appetite.  Not yet, anyway.

He shot a glance up at the Head Table.  The Headmaster was sitting, eating and talking with Professor McGonnagal.  Next to him, Flitwick and Sprout were toasting each other, it looked like.  

His gaze moved to the two people he was most interested in.  Professor Stone sat next to Sprout, Hagrid having disappeared after delivering the latest batch of snivelly-nosed first years.  He studied her for a moment.  She looked good, he decided.  Relaxed and happy and quite pleased with the world around her.  In fact, at that particular moment it looked like she was trying not to laugh.

He shifted his eyes to the reason for her laughter.  Next to her, Professor Snape was glaring over at the Gryffindor table, his plate currently filled with something that appeared to be…  wriggling?  Draco resisted the urge to sneer.  Couldn't those wretched Weasleys think of something more original.  He briefly wondered which one had done the deed.  The twins, Fred and George, had made their admittedly spectacular exit last spring, so that left only Ron and Ginny.  

Draco shot his eyes briefly to where the Golden Threesome was sitting, with the little Weasleyette.  He couldn't help scowling.  So what if he and Potter had managed to work together in class last year.  He didn't like the prat, and never would.  And Weasley!  Hah.  The tall boy was currently snickering into his plate.  Draco wondered what he would look like if _his_ food suddenly turned into wiggle worms.

Just then, Dumbledore rose from his spot, drawing Draco's eye back to the head table.  "If I might have your attention for a moment, please," the old man said, eyes twinkling even from that far distance away.  Draco had to admire the old man's magic.  He did quite a _sonorous_ charm.

The room got quiet as the rest of the students turned toward their headmaster.  Dumbledore smiled at them.  "I have just a few announcements," he said.  "One, the Forbidden Forest is still just that, forbidden.  Do not enter it unless you wish to suffer a most painful death.  Secondly, I am pleased to welcome back Professor Stone."  There were scattered cheers from some of the students.  Draco snorted softly.  Idiots.  They didn't have the brains to realize that Snape was about as brilliant as they could get for a Potions Master.  Not that Professor Stone wasn't remarkable, too, but one should still be able to recognize greatness.

"I am sure you will all be pleased to know that she has accepted a permanent position here, as she and Professor Snape collaborate on research throughout the year."  A mild thrill shot through Draco at those words.  The best moments of last year had been spent helping Professor Stone with her research.  Would she let him help again? he wondered.  After Umbridge had locked up all her research materials last term…  

"Finally," Dumbledore was still going on, "I would like to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Weasley."

Draco muffled his groan, as the Gryffindor table erupted into raucous cheering.  Dammit.  Another Weasley.  He glared at the tall red-headed man who was grinning and waving back at the applauding students.  One of the older ones, it looked like.  He couldn't remember their names, there were so many of that wretched family.  Well, it looked like this term would be shot to hell, he thought.  

He glanced down the Slytherin table to where his old cronies were sitting, muttering amongst themselves with similar looks on their faces.  Hah.  Little Death Eater spawn.  None of them had bothered to speak to him as of yet, and he seriously doubted they would try.  The events of last year were too well known.  His father's death, the rumor that Draco had helped thwart some major plan of the Dark Lord's, and Draco's refusal to join in Umbridge's little militia despite the "Headmistress'" bribe of lifting his probation.  Instead, he'd walked a very fine line last year, learning to fade into the background of whatever room he was in.  Umbridge had finally given up on him and left him alone, but so had his housemates.

He lifted his goblet of pumpkin juice and sipped.  At least they were all still scared of him.  With his probation gone this year, he was free to hex anyone into oblivion who tried to pull anything on him.  Last year, he'd had to resort to serious charms about his bed and personal belongings, and he'd spent far too much time in the library researching how to reverse various unpleasant hexes.  He shuddered slightly, remembering the dreadful combination of a Flatulance Hex with a Laxitivus Charm.  He'd had to throw those robes away.

The Head Boy and Head Girl, some no-names from Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, were starting to hustle people away from the tables, aided by the prefects.  Draco fingered his wand in his pocket, and sneered as one of the Slytherin prefects made as if to turn in his direction.  He smirked as the foolish girl, Martha, he thought her name was, took a step backward and then spun around and ignored him.  He rose as smoothly from the table as he could.  

This year, he thought, he wasn't going to be the invisible man in the room.  No, this year, he'd make sure everyone knew he was there.  They'd know it was him, and they'd all take a step back.  The look on his face deepened as he swept down the steps to the Slytherin common room.  No one was going to get close enough to him this year to cause him any mistakes.

Cara McDouglas heaved a sigh as she followed the Gryffindor prefects toward the tower and the common room.  Thank god she was back at Hogwarts, she thought, feeling more cheerful with each step she took.  Ahead of her, her dormmate Ginny was giggling with Harry Potter.  Cara grinned.  Ginny'd had a thing for Harry for years, and even though she'd started seeing other guys last year, Cara knew her friend was still gaga over the guy.  

Well, she couldn't blame her, she thought in amusement.  After all, Harry was really nice, and smart, and cute, and you couldn't forget all that Hero-Boy-Who-Lived stuff.  And a really great quiddich player, too.  Cara sighed.  Here she was, fifteen, and she'd never been kissed.  Thanks to that prat, Michael, Ginny'd beat her at that, as well.

Cara quickly shrugged off the depressed feeling.  There'd be plenty of time for depression once classes got started.  She hoped Professor Weasley was a better teacher than that scary woman last year.  Umbridge had been a nightmare, and DADA had always been her best class.  And then there had been Potions…  Cara shuddered and beat back the thoughts.  Plenty of time for agonizing later.  

The Fat Lady was greeting them all as the students streamed in.  "Oh, it's always so nice to see you children back again," the portrait was saying in a slightly muffled voice, as she was currently pressed open against the wall.  "It gets rather lonely during the summer, you know, nothing interesting happening, no one sneaking out for late night snogs…"

Cara blinked as she heard those last lines, stepping through the opening.  Had the Fat Lady spiked her tea again? 

And then she was in the common room, and people were laughing and greeting each other as they made their slow way toward bedrooms.  "Cara!" Ginny was calling, and Cara paused with one foot on the dorm steps.  

"Yes, dahling?" she called over her shoulder, grinning.

The redhead dropped an arm over her shoulders.  "What do you say we grab our brooms, jump out the window, and join a muggle circus?" she said.

Cara giggled at their longtime joke.  "But you couldn't come, they've already filled the part of the monkeys," she teased back.

Ginny wrinkled her nose.  "Fine.  I'll be a one of those people who swings around on those wire things in sexy little outfits."

Cara giggled again as they reached their dorm room.  "You're going to need to grow something up top first, you know," she snickered.

"Ooh," Ginny groaned.  "That was low."

"No kidding," Cara smirked, with a pointed gaze down.  

"That does it," Ginny said, half shrieking, half laughing, and drawing wary looks from the other three girls in their dorm.  "You're going down, McDouglas."

Cara barely had time to snatch the pillow off her own bed, before she was hit in the mouth with a sack full of feathers.  She sputtered and swung her own pillow blindly, managing to come into contact with something.  Blinking away the fluff that was sticking to her eyelashes, she saw Diana, one of their other dormmates looking at her with a very disgruntled look.  

Cara looked at Ginny.  Ginny looked at Cara.  They started to smile, slow and evil.  

"Pillow fight!!" they both yelled and then the feathers started flying in earnest.

Draco lay in his bed, silencing charms set and the wards around his bed in place.  He'd made his bed, with the curtains drawn, of course, into his own little cave.  Impenetrable to his fellow students.  He had no doubt that the pricks he roomed with were up to their usual boasting about their summer's activities.  Funny to think, last year, he had been one of them.  Sneering at their pathetic attempts at seductions and the Dark Arts, of course, but still, one of them.  

He stared at the ceiling.  And now, he was an island in the middle of the all this scum.  One lip curled.  He'd show them all.  They thought they could ignore him?  Draco smiled.  An unpleasant smile.  No one would touch him this year.  No one would overlook him.  Precious Potter and his friends had better watch out, there was a new Draco Malfoy to contend with.  And this one, he planned to be the best at everything.


	2. A Task

Chapter 2

Cara peered frantically into her cauldron.  Damn, damn and double damn, she thought miserably.  Why did she have to take this stupid class?  She'd never pass her OWLs, her parents would disown her, she'd end up scrabbling in the streets because of one stupid potions grade…

Just then the soft shuffle of Professor Stone paused at her workspace.  Cara hung her head.  "You seem to be having difficulty, Miss McDouglas," her teacher said gently.  

Cara wanted to cry.  She'd been so excited last year when Professor Snape had handed her class, among others, over to Professor Stone to teach.  She thought there was no way she could do worse with that terrifyingly greasy git gone.  And here she was, with a potion that bubbled and boiled a deep purple, while everyone else had a calm, shimmery blue.  Maybe it was Snape's dark presence hanging over the dungeons, making things scary even when he wasn't there.  His office was a dark, black hole on the other side of the classroom, and for a moment Cara pictured all the horrible things that must go on in that room…

"I… I'm not sure," she started to try and dig herself out of her hole.  

Professor Stone sighed, and Cara risked a glance up, worried.  "Miss McDouglas, please see me after class," she said.  "In the mean time, start again, and pay close attention to the quantity of ginger root you add."  With a wave of her wand, the mess in Cara's cauldron vanished, and the teacher moved on.  

Cara gulped and with shaking hands reached again for her supplies.  "Hey," Ginny whispered from behind her.  "Don't worry, you'll get it right this time."

Cara shook her head, still miserable.  She hated this class.  She didn't struggle with anything else, even Arithmancy was easy compared to Potions.  No matter what she tried, she couldn't seem to get the potions quite right.  She carefully leveled the teaspoon of ground pumice stone, and then barely remembered to double-check that it was the right amount before she dumped it into her cauldron.  Sure enough, it was supposed to be a half-teaspoon.  

It was an agonizing hour later before Cara found herself standing in front of Professor Stone's desk.  She'd double-checked everything she measured, and still her potion had been the wrong color.  At least this time, it had been a turquoise rather than purple. The woman looked at her with serious but kind eyes, and Cara swallowed.  Oh boy.  She was in trouble.

"Miss McDouglas, have you always had as much trouble with this class as you have in the time you've spent with me?" Professor Stone asked softly.  

Cara examined a crack in the floor with great diligence.  "Yes," she whispered.  She was going to get kicked out of the class, she just knew it.  And her parents would be furious and probably ground her, and then she wouldn't graduate and have to take to the streets…

"I see," her professor said, and tapped a quill against the desk.  Cara jerked her mind out of the tragic future and back to the present.  "In that case, Miss McDouglas, I have a proposition for you."

Cara felt a little more hopeful.  Maybe expulsion wasn't in her future after all. 

"I have another student who is struggling, just like you," Professor Stone said.  "I would like to arrange a tutor for each of you, another student who is excelling at this subject."

"You're not going to expel me?" Cara said, relieved.

There was a snort from the direction of Professor Snape's dark office, and Cara gulped.  He'd been in there the entire class?  No wonder she'd screwed up the potion.  He'd probably cursed the whole room.  

Professor Stone just chuckled, her eyes smiling.  "I'm your teacher, Miss McDouglas.  It's my job to make sure you learn, not just punish you for having trouble."  There was another snort, and Professor Stone rolled her eyes.  "Thank you for your input, Severus," she called in a rather fakely sweet tone.  "I'll be sure to return the favor the next time you see your third-year Hufflepuffs."

This time there was silence from the yawning black hole of an office, and Professor Stone smirked before looking back at Cara.  Cara wondered briefly if there was any truth in the rumor that the two potions professors were, er, romantically involved.  Because that was just gross.

"I'd like you to be here after dinner tonight," Professor Stone told her.  "I'll introduce your tutor then.  Provided you make progress with the person I select to help you, I believe you will have no further problems with this class."

"Thank you, Professor," Cara said, incredibly relieved.  She'd graduate after all.  Become a world-famous something-or-other.  Marry someone rich and handsome and talented who doted on her and live in a beautiful home and…

Professor Stone was watching her, one eyebrow raised.  "That's all, Miss McDouglas," she said, looking amused.  "You may go."

Cara blushed.  "Yes'm.  Thank you," she said, as she dashed for the door.  She had to get to Herbology before Sprout noticed she was gone.  She thought she heard voices as she shut the classroom door behind her, and shuddered.  She really hoped Professor Stone wasn't getting it on with Snape.  That was just…  ick.  

Draco sat, relaxed and at ease in his seat and silently watched his cauldron bubble.  So he was stuck once again with Potter as his partner.  Professor Stone had announced the partners for the term, and he hadn't been terribly surprised to be paired with the Boy Wonder again.  He would have preferred working alone, but it made Professor Stone happy to see them work together.  So, for her, he would tolerate Potter.

Potter was currently reading over their scroll of instructions again, lips moving slightly and silently.  Draco resisted the urge to snort.  After working as a pair all of last term, you'd think the prat would have realized that _he_ never made mistakes.  

Keeping one eye on the bubbling mixture, he glanced about the room, other pairs in muted conversations about their own projects.  Granger and Weasley were both working with other people, thanks to the good professor.  He'd nearly laughed aloud at the look on Weasley's face when he'd been paired with Pansy.  Granger had gotten Dean Thomas, and frankly, he pitted the other boy.  Granger was currently ruling _that_ pair with an iron fist.

"Oh, before I forget," Professor Stone said from the front of the room.  "Mr. Malfoy, Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom.  I'd like to see you after class."

Draco frowned.  About what?  Maybe her research, he thought with a moment of rising hope.  But no, that idiot Longbottom certainly wouldn't be trusted with the kind of delicate work that Professor Stone would need.  Hell, the imbecile was currently butchering his and his partner's potion over in the far corner.  Draco was just glad that his own work was too far away to be affected by the inevitable explosion.  He glanced at the clock.  It hadn't happened yet, but any minute now…

Sure enough, as he watched, Longbottom accidentally knocked a beaker full of cotton seeds into his and Finnegan's cauldron.  Draco resisted the urge to duck as the contents promptly shot up toward the ceiling with a BANG.  

Professor Stone sighed.  "Please be careful," she said, standing and starting to make her slow way over to the pair, who were now covered in magenta gunk.  At least this potion wasn't acidic, Draco thought.  He didn't particularly want to listen to the Gryffindors howl.  

His mind drifted a bit, even as he automatically checked and stirred his own cauldron.  Professor Stone was limping over to the two boys, wand out, ready to clean them up.  His eyes dropped to the leg he knew was weak, to her cane.  He again felt a rush of guilt, a wave of misery.  He'd done that to her, given her that injury.  He knew Snape would never forgive him for it.  He was unable to forgive himself.  Sure, at the time he'd hated Professor Stone with a passion, but afterward…  she'd saved him.  Kept him in school and away from his father's wrath, fists and wand.  She'd let him into her world of research and knowledge, led him down paths he'd never have found on his own.  Held him when he'd cried over his father's death.

Draco shifted uncomfortably.  He didn't like remembering the fact that he'd cried on her shoulder.  Maybe it was the Malfoy in him, but he considered that kind of behavior beneath him under normal circumstances.

"It's done," Potter broke into his train of thought.  Draco looked down to see that yes, their Regeneration Potion was the proper consistency and a light yellow color.  

"Right," he said curtly, pulling back into himself.  "I'll get the bottles."  He rose from the table, glad to be away from the other boy.  Sometimes, even though he didn't like to admit it, Potter saw more than he wanted.  It wasn't a good time to be thinking about how much he owed Professor Stone, not when the Boy Wonder was sitting right next to him.

He selected a beaker and cast the Unbreakable Charm.  He didn't want anyone getting that kind of information on him, he thought.  Not if he wanted to keep everyone at bay.  

Draco glanced over at Professor Stone as he made his way back to his workspace.  She happened to look up from where she was supervising Longbottom chopping dandelion root, and gave him an encouraging smile.  He felt something soften, even as he averted his eyes back to the beaker in his hand.  Perhaps everyone but Professor Stone.  Because _she_ actually seemed to care.

The potions were done, bottled and labeled as the class filed out of the room.  Draco remained in his seat, lazily sprawled behind the well-scrubbed table.  Time to find out what Professor Stone wanted.  Granger was hovering by Professor Stone's desk, and Longbottom was shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably behind her.  Draco resisted the urge to sneer.  Pathetic, the two of them.  

Professor Stone came limping back out of her office with a smile.  "Ah, good.  Mr. Longbottom, you first," she said.  The other boy's face became even more nervous as she sank into her desk chair.  

"Don't worry," she said with a comforting look.  "I know you're struggling in this class, Neville," she said.  Draco resisted the urge to laugh.  That was a really nice way of putting it, he thought sardonically.  "In order to help you maintain a grade and pass this course, I would like to arrange for you to have a tutor."  Draco got a sinking feeling, and he sat forward in his chair.  She wouldn't…

Professor Stone looked at himself and Granger and gave another smile.  "Miss Granger and Mr. Malfoy, I would like the two of you to serve as tutors."  Bloody hell, Draco thought.  He could not picture anything worse than being forced to tutor that incompetent nitwit.  "Miss Granger," Professor Stone looked at her, "if you would be agreeable, you would tutor Mr. Longbottom.  I will add that yourself and Mr. Malfoy would be receiving extra credit for this course, and the opportunity to do independent work in preparation for your NEWT exams next year."

Draco was reluctantly intrigued.  Independent work?  He could try brewing a Nerve-Deadening Potion, like he'd been itching to do all summer…

Professor Stone was looking at him now.  "Mr. Malfoy, I have a fifth-year student who you would be working with," she told him.  "Cara McDouglas."

The name wasn't familiar to Draco, which told him the girl was probably yet another Gryffindor.  He grimaced, not bothering to hide his expression.  Could he put up with a dimwitted Gryffindor for the chance to do his own work…?

Granger was already babbling about how she'd be delighted, blah blah blah.  She'd do anything that got her extra marks, he thought with derision.  She didn't care about potions, she cared about grades.  

"I'll do it," he said coolly, cutting through Grangers chatter and shutting her up, he was glad to see.  "Provided this McDouglas is teachable."

Professor Stone lifted one eyebrow at him, and as her dark eyes met his, he felt guilt begin to simmer under his skin.  She was the only one who could do that to him.  She'd not given up on him, even when he'd deserved it.  "I assure you, Miss McDouglas is quite bright," she said in a gently reproving tone that he felt all the way through.  He kept his face straight with an effort.  "She, like Mr. Longbottom, merely needs one-on-one attention from someone competent enough to help."

"You two will be responsible for ensuring your charges improve over the course of the year," she continued, drawing her attention back to Granger as well.  "I expect regular reports from each of you, and clear, fair assessments of their progress."

It wouldn't be fun, Draco thought, shaking off the feeling of light guilt from a moment before, but the rewards...  His lips curved just a bit.  The rewards could be great.  

"Not to worry, Professor," he drawled, standing and gathering his things.  It was nearly dinnertime.  

"Good," Professor Stone said, a smile in her voice and her eyes that briefly made Draco wonder suspiciously.  He hoped she wasn't trying to do-good him some more.  Because he seemed to be unable to stop her or say no whenever she did, no matter how much he hated it.  "I have asked Miss McDouglas to be here after dinner, you may meet her and arrange times to work together then.  All of you are welcome to use this classroom when there are not classes in session."

Granger turned to Longbottom at that point and started discussing schedules, even as the other boy was backing toward the door and, Draco guessed, dinner.  Draco rolled his eyes.  Moron, the lot of them.  He'd yet to meet a Gryffindor he'd truly liked.

"Draco," Professor Stone said as he was about to follow.  He turned back to face her.

"Yes, Professor?" he said.  She was sitting, straight and tall in her chair, no sign of her physical weakness shining in those bright, brilliant eyes.  

"I'm very glad you're going to do this," she said with a smile.  "I think you'll find the chance to do your own work quite enjoyable."  Draco thought of the Nerve-Deadening Potion and resisted the urge to smile.  "In addition, I wanted to tell you that Professor Snape and I will be working on a new antidote on the weekends, and you are welcome to assist."

Draco couldn't keep the eagerness off his face, not even if he wanted to.  And with _her_, he didn't have to try.  "Saturday, ma'am?  In the morning?"

"Ten a.m., Mr. Malfoy," she said with a smile, a big bright one that made him light up inside.  She _cared_, he thought again.  In all his life, no one had ever truly cared.  Not until her.  It didn't matter, anything else.  Just knowing someone cared whether he lived or died made a difference to him, somehow.  

He swallowed a little.  "I'll be here, ma'am," he said.  

She beamed.  "Right then.  Off to dinner, and I'll see you afterward," she said.  Draco gave a nod that was a little tight, and then slipped from the room.  He shivered a bit as he made his way slowly to the Great Hall.  It was odd, this feeling.  He'd had a bit of a crush on Professor Stone last year, but this…  this was different.  It wasn't romantic, not at all.  He knew Snape had that angle covered.  It was… grateful.  Hungry and needy and so bloody grateful.  

He'd never repay his debt to her, he thought as he entered the Great Hall and took his customary place toward the end of the Slytherin table.  On so many levels, in so many ways.  And then the food appeared and he put the thoughts out of his mind.  Dwelling was a weakness, and not one he wanted to exhibit.  He reached for a roll instead, focusing on the task at hand.  Dinner, and then meet his new student.  


	3. Unexpected

Chapter 3

Cara was eyeing the slices of chocolate cake in the middle of the table, and wondering if she could possibly fit another slice when Ginny nudged her.  "Hey, weren't you supposed to meet Professor Stone after dinner?" her friend asked.

Cara heaved a sigh, silently mourning the cake.  "Yeah," she said glumly.  Chocolate would really hit the spot about now.  It would keep her first slice from being lonely, down there in her tummy.

Ginny propped her chin on one hand as she forked up another bite of _her_ cake.  "Oh, come on," she said, licking her lips free of frosting.  Wonderful, fudgy frosting…  "At least you're going to get help, and she's not going to let you fail the class.  A tutor will help you pass your OWLs."

Cara couldn't resist, and reached over and swiped a fingerful of frosting off Diana's plate, drawing a short howl and an attempted fork-stabbing from the other girl.  "I know," she said, sucking her finger clean.  Damn, that was good frosting.  Especially since Diana had missed her hand with her fork.  "It's just depressing, you know?  I mean, I get everything else.  It's just that one stupid class."

Diana was still glaring at her.  "Maybe you'd do better if you kept your fingers out of other people's deserts," she said.

Cara just stuck out her tongue, which made Diana stick out her tongue, which made Cara stick hers out farther.  Ginny rolled her eyes.  "That's so gross," she said, scrunching up her nose.  

Satisfied that she'd in some way 'won', Cara relaxed and shrugged.  "I guess I should go," she said, reluctantly.  Ginny patted her sympathetically on the back as she stood.  

"It'll be fine," her friend said.  "You'll see.  Professor Stone is sure to have picked someone nice, who knows their stuff.  Probably Hermione," she suggested.  

Cara glanced down the table.  "Where's your brother and his friends, anyway?" she asked.

Ginny got a slightly peeved look in her eyes.  "I don't know," she said.  Cara decided not to go there.  Last year, Ginny had gotten much closer to her brother and his friends, the brilliant Hermione Granger and the famous Harry Potter, but it still ticked her off when the threesome disappeared and didn't tell her.  Cara didn't know them well, herself, but all three seemed like nice enough people.  

"Right," she said, sneaking one last swipe of Diana's frosting.  "I'm going."  She licked her finger as she headed for the doors of the Great Hall.  Definitely good frosting, she thought.  If she didn't have to get downstairs, she'd be having another piece.  

On her way out, she nearly bumped into the missing three Gryffindors.  "Oops, sorry," she said, teetering a bit as Ron Weasley had to reach out to grab her arm and keep her from falling.  

"You all right there, Cara?" Harry asked.  A bit absently, like he had something on his mind.  

"Fine," she said, giving the three of them a friendly smile.  "Er, Hermione, are you going down to see Professor Stone, by any chance?" she asked, hopefully.

Hermione was more than a little distracted, as well, and shook her head.  "No, I already saw her," she said, clearly not paying attention and wrapped in her own thoughts.  

"Hey, the food's almost gone!" Ron said, sounding alarmed, and Cara grinned as the three of them made a beeline for the Gryffindor table.  Ginny had mentioned her brothers' appetites before.  It could be a scary, scary thing.

She headed for the dungeons once more.  Hermione wasn't her tutor, she thought.  Then who was?

Draco had left dinner early, preferring to always be early rather than late.  Early meant he was seated and comfortable, prepared and in a position of power as he waited for his student.  He snorted in the silent classroom.  His student.  Hah.  He was no bloody teacher, and he didn't want to be.  But he _did_ want to brew that Nerve-Deadening Potion.

He'd chosen a seat against the wall, in a darkened corner of the room.  Professor Stone had raised an eyebrow and rolled her eyes as he'd sat, muttering something under her breath about Professor Snape and eirily similar.  Draco had decided he was pleased with the comparison.  After all, Professor Snape was one of the most daunting people he'd ever met.  He rather liked the idea of intimidating someone that way.  

He glanced a trifle impatiently at the clock.  Where was this McDouglas, anyway?  He didn't particularly want to spend his entire evening waiting on some air-headed fifth-year.  

Fortunately for his student, she decided to show up a few minutes later.  Of course, by that time Draco had had time to make a mental list of various acidic potions that he would enjoy watching a Gryffindor bumble.  From his corner, he watched with brooding eyes as the classroom door opened, and a dark-haired girl came in.  

The girl looked around, but didn't seem to see him in his shadowed spot.  Professor Stone had stepped into Snape's office, so it gave Draco a leisurely moment to survey his new charge.  

She was fairly short, with dark hair pulled back in a tail at the back of her neck.  Draco studied her carefully.  She looked nervous, he thought, with no small satisfaction.  Wait until she found out her tutor was the evil Draco Malfoy, he smirked silently.  She wasn't unattractive, rather pretty, actually.  But that blank look on her face was off-putting.  He supposed it was rather a good thing, this Gryffindor being so bland.  She would be easy to intimidate.

Just then, Professor Stone came limping out of Snape's office, carrying a rather large tome in her free hand.  "Ah, Miss McDouglas," she said, smiling at the girl.  Who, Draco noted with derision, gave a rather timid smile back.  "I'm glad you're here.  Let me introduce your tutor.  Mr. Malfoy," she called, looking over at Draco.

He kept his eyes on the girl, as he stayed seated for a moment.  She froze as Professor Stone said his name, and then slowly turned to look his way.  He allowed a sardonic smile to cross his lips before taking his time to rise.  A look of utter dismay and yes, fear, he was pleased to note, crossed her face before she bit her lip and looked anxiously back at Professor Stone.

"Draco Malfoy, Cara McDouglas," Professor Stone said cheerfully, ignoring the girl's rather pleading look.  "I'm assuming you two are unacquainted."

"I haven't had the pleasure," Draco said in a silky voice, casually strolling out of the shadows toward the girl.  

Professor Stone smiled again.  "Well, then, you'll have plenty of opportunity to get to know one another," she said, still in that cheerful voice.  Frankly, Draco was starting to wonder about all the cheer.  Was Professor Stone up to something?  "Cara, Draco is one of my top Potions students, and he will be working with you as your tutor."

"But…" the Gryffindor twit stuttered a bit.

Professor Stone looked at her and raised an eyebrow.  "Yes?" she asked, a little of that cheer fading and an edge slipping in.  Oh, she was good, Draco thought in admiration.  She'd been taking lessons in manipulation from Snape.

The girl bit her lip, and then shook her head.  "Um, nothing," she said, swallowing.  

Draco decided it was time to contribute to the conversation.  "I will meet you here," he said in a cool tone, "three nights a week, unless you seem to need more instruction."  He swept her with his gaze, clearly implying that she would.  Her back seemed to stiffen at that for a moment before slumping.  No backbone, he thought in dismissal.  Another pathetic Gryffindor.  "Professor Stone has granted us use of the room and supplies."

"Miss Granger and Mr. Longbottom have decided to work during one of their free periods during the day," Professor Stone said, shifting so she was leaning against Snape's desk and setting down the heavy book she was holding.  "So you two will have the entire room at your disposal.  Professor Snape and I will most likely be in our offices, should you need us."

Draco kept his eyes on the girl.  Cara, he thought.  Hah.  She seemed like the type who would need all the help she could get.  "Tomorrow night, eight o'clock," he said coolly.  "I will expect you, Miss McDouglas."  With that, he turned toward Professor Stone.  "Will I be allowed to work on my independent work at the same time, Professor?" he asked, mentally dismissing the girl.  

Professor Stone tipped her head to one side and regarded him with steady eyes.  "Your first priority is your tutoring, Mr. Malfoy," she said.  Draco felt a twinge as those level eyes regarded him.  Drat, he thought.  She always seemed to do that to him.  "Provided you are able to give Miss McDouglas all the assistance she needs, I have no problem allowing you to pursue your own work.  However," she held up a finger as one corner of his mouth lifted in satisfaction.  "I will need to see a proposal of what you will be working on, and what supplies you will require.  I would prefer to be present if you are handling volatile materials."

He gave a crisp nod.  "Yes, ma'am," he said.  He began mentally making notes.  "I'll have it to you in the morning."

She smiled at him, that big, beaming smile that made something go weak and mushy inside.  "Excellent," she said, approval just pouring out of her.  She turned that smile on the silent twit next to her.  "Miss McDouglas, I'm sure you'll find Mr. Malfoy to be a great deal of help.  Is there anything else you need to settle tonight?" she asked, turning back to him.

Draco inclined his head respectfully.  "No, ma'am," he said.

"Then I think we're done here," she said with a smile.  "Have a good night, you two."

Draco nodded, and then turned to the girl.  He smiled, a smile full of teeth.  "After you," he said.

Cara could not believe it.  Of all the people, in the entire school, she got Draco Malfoy as a tutor.  Why me? She silently bemoaned her luck.  Everyone knew the Slytherin was bad news.  Why, there had been all those stories last year, about his hurting Professor Stone, and then his probation, and rumors of him and his Death Eater father…  He'd probably hex her, she thought miserably, drag her off to some Death Eater's meeting, she'd be tortured and then die a horrible death at Voldemort's hands…

"Don't be late," said a cold voice behind her, nearly making her stumble in surprise as it jerked her out of her miserable musings.  "I detest slovenly habits such as tardiness.  If you wish for my assistance, you will be prompt."

"Whatever," she mumbled under her breath, pretty sure he couldn't hear her.  Well, right until she felt strong, cool fingers grasp her neck, pulling her to a halt.

Malfoy held her by one hand about the nape of her neck and he leaned down close to her face.  Cara gulped and would have shrank back, but there really wasn't any place to go.  His hand was too strong for her to pull away from.  She glanced frantically up and down the hall.  There was no one watching, no one to save her.  

"Don't antagonize me, McDouglas," Malfoy hissed, his face cold and hard, eyes an icy gray.  "You're damned lucky I'm doing this, and I will not hesitate to make your life miserable, should you give me the slightest reason."

"Then why are you bothering?" she blurted out, a little too scared of him, the school's most terrifying student, to watch her words.  

One corner of his mouth curled in derision.  "That's none of your concern," he said, and then released.  "Eight o'clock," he said again, taking a step back and eyeing her coolly.  "We shall see just how incompetent you are."

Cara gaped in frightened offense, but he'd turned his back and was striding off down the stone hallway, shoes barely making a sound on the flagstones.  She stood, locked where she stood until he'd disappeared around a corner.  Then her muscles seemed to give way, and she slumped against the wall.  

"Why me?" she moaned aloud.  "Of all the people, why me?"  She lifted her head and dropped it back against the wall, wincing as it thudded against the stones.  Ouch.  Heaving a sigh, she straightened up, and headed in the direction of Gryffindor Tower.  Wait until she told Ginny that Draco Malfoy was her tutor, she thought gloomily.  


	4. First Meeting

To my reviewers:  Hello?  Anyone out there?

Ms. CE – Bless you for reviewing, and your words of encouragement!  Keep reading, and tell me your thoughts.  The actual plot line is still fermenting in my head, so suggestions and constructive criticism is _very_ helpful.

Chapter 4

"_Malfoy_ is your tutor??" Ginny screeched.  

Cara moaned and dropped her head back down into her hands.  "I know," she said miserably in the direction of the floor.  "If I wasn't failing Potions before, can you imagine what my grade will be now?"

"Holy hell," Ginny said, still looking both enraged and bewildered.  "I mean…  holy hell."

"I _know_," Cara said again, her voice muffled against her hands.  

She jumped a second later when a hand dropped on her shoulder.  "Cara," said a voice quietly.

Ginny gave another screech.  "Blimey, Harry, don't sneak up on a girl," she said, shooting the boy a glare.  Cara snuck a look at her friend and resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  Ginny might be glaring at her long-time crush, but damned if that goofy look wasn't still hiding there in her eyes.  It was amazing no one else seemed to see it.

Harry Potter just grinned at the redhead.  "Hah.  Like you scare me, Weasley," he said with a smirk.  He dropped down on the couch across from the two of them and looked over at Cara.  "I heard you talking," he said to her.

"Great, first he's sneaking, now he's eavesdropping," Ginny muttered, crossing her arms and glaring harder.  

Harry rolled his eyes.  "Anyway.  I heard you guys talking, about how Draco Malfoy's your Potions tutor," he said.

Cara nodded, resisting the urge to beat herself senseless with her Dark Arts textbook.  That would leave a mark, and she just wasn't up for a long session in the bathroom trying to wrestle with her concealer.  "Yeah.  I'm dead.  Dead, dead, dead."

Harry shrugged.  "Look, I'm not fond of the guy, that's no secret," he said.  Ginny snorted, and he rolled his eyes again.  "Shut up," he told her.  "Cara, I just wanted to tell you, he's not as bad as you think."

"Holy hell," Ginny said for the third time in under two minutes.  "You're _defending_ Malfoy?"

Harry grinned.  "Don't tell Ron," he said.  Then he sobered a little.  "No, really.  I know a couple of things about him…  anyway.  Trust me when I say, he's not as bad as he's been painted.  And he's really good at Potions.  I should know, I've got him as my bloody partner in that class."

"That's right," Cara said out loud, remembering the gossip that had swirled around the school last fall.  "And you guys haven't killed each other."

Harry chuckled.  "Yeah.  But that's probably only luck," he said.  Then he shook his head.  "No, really.  He's not that bad.  I'm not saying I'm ever going to invite him to my birthday, but you'll be ok.  Just…  try not to let him get to you," he told her.  "Draco'll take any weakness and throw it back at you a hundred times.  You've got to, well, stand up to him, I guess.  Make him respect you."

"And how am I supposed to do that when I'm exploding a cauldron in his face?" Cara asked him.

Harry shrugged.  "Don't let him intimidate you.  Or at least, don't let him see it.  Make him think you're not scared, that you don't think he's any better than you."

"He's not," Ginny muttered.

"In Potions, he is," Cara pointed out.

"So, let him know that," Harry said, getting up.  "But don't let him put you down."  And then he grinned, a wicked grin that sent his eyes dancing so that even Cara got the shivers.  Merlin, no wonder Ginny had a thing for this guy.  Talk about _hot_.  "And if he gets to be a pain, tell me and Ron.  We haven't tangled with the guy for a long time."

"Oh, yeah, that's what we really need," Ginny said.  "Ron getting an excuse to kill Draco Malfoy.  Thanks, Harry, I really wanted my brother sent to Azkaban for life.  You're such a pal."  

Cara grinned as Harry rolled his eyes and then reached over and tussled Ginny's hair, causing the other girl to screech once more.  She caught the barest glimpse of a funny look as he did, though, and it made her briefly pause from her contemplations of her own miserable life.  What did that mean… she thought, before Ginny flung a pillow after the black-haired boy.  Harry dodged easily and laughed over his shoulder as he headed for the fireside and his two friends, and she shook her head.  Whatever.  

"Don't let him intimidate me, he says," she said aloud.  "Don't let Draco Malfoy, most terrifying student in the whole bloody school, intimidate me.  Great advice, Harry," she said sarcastically.  "_Really_ great advice."

"Hey, you could always carry some of Fred and George's things," Ginny offered.  "I mean, how intimidating could Malfoy be as a canary?"

Cara looked at her, and both the girls giggled.  

**********

Draco sat comfortably ensconced in a corner of the library.  This particular table was out of the view of Madam Pince, and conveniently located near the Potions section.  He reached for another text and flipped pages, skimming quickly.  He'd had to select only the more recently published volumes, as Professor Stone's potion had been completed about five years ago.  

He skimmed the page of the book in his hands.  _The Nerve-Deadening Potion_, he read silently, _was a major step toward the eventual development of such highly complex potions as the Wolfsbane Potion.  Sonora Stone, working for several years in a remote part of Indonesia, eventually discovered the proper quantity of powdered opium to be combined with other volatile ingredients, including blubberpus and venom from the Timber Rattlesnake.  It was her use of ingredients from various parts of the world, combined with an brilliant addition of chopped toad eyes, that led to the final formula.  _

Draco made a few notes on the ingredients.  He'd been through piles of books, and was still looking for the formula.  He might have to break down and just ask Professor Stone, although he preferred to try and find all the pieces himself.  Knowledge was power, he thought, with no small satisfaction.  He intended to arm himself with quite a bit.  

A dark memory swam out of the back of his mind, and for a moment, Draco had to fight back the images.  

The sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh…  "Insolent boy," a cold voice hissed.  "You will not fail me next year…"

He snapped back out of it a second later as two quietly giggling girls passed by his table, a shelf of books away.  To his chagrin, he was breathing quickly and rather heavily.  His fingers tightened around his quill as he deliberately steadied his breathing.  He would not be in that vulnerable a position again, he thought grimly, bending over the books again.  Never again.

As he began skimming and making notes again, unbidden, another memory surfaced.  

He reached out and laid one finger on the tear-dropped shaped leaf.  A whirlwind of sensations exploded behind his eyes, a microcosm of emotions made him reel.  And over it all, the sound of a girl, laughing happily, and a feeling of incredible warmth…

He shook it off, as well.  Lately it seemed this one sought him out at the oddest times.  Binns' class, in the dorm at night, in the Great Hall.  Almost as if his mind was trying to tell him something.

Draco sneered silently at his own thoughts.  He was getting maudlin, he thought derisively.  A strange hallucination, thanks to a rare plant, and suddenly he was getting as pathetically soppy as Potter.  He focused on the parchment in front of him.  He had work to do.  Knowledge to accumulate.  

And this time, he thought bitterly, quill moving once more, he would not be the one left powerless.

**********

Cara dragged herself through the next day, obsessing over the fact that she had to spend an evening in the dank, dreary potions dungeons with the school's most dangerous student.  Even the rice custard at lunch failed to spark any enthusiasm.  And Ginny was no help, the way she kept chattering on about classwork.  Not that there was anything wrong with talking about classes, it was just that classes meant Cara thought about Potions, and thinking about Potions led to tutoring.  Tutoring equaled Scary Slytherin.

Don't be intimidated, she thought later that evening at dinner, poking sadly at the very nice chicken on her plate.  Hah.  Easy for Harry to say, he'd reportedly faced down the Dark Lord himself no less than five times and lived.  Not even Malfoy could compete with that.

Next to her, Diana nudged her.  "Oy, Cara, pass the peas, would you?" her dormmate asked.  Cara did with a silent and glum face.  "What's the matter with you?" Diana asked as she spooned a generous portion on her plate.  "You haven't said anything hardly all day."

"Tutoring tonight," Cara muttered.  "Potions."

"Riiiight," Diana said, in an 'oh-so-_that's_-it' tone.  "Look, he's just a guy, right?  You're a girl.  Girls are way superior to guys.  Period."

Ginny leaned across the table at that and chimed in.  "No kidding.  I mean, look at my family.  My parents had to give it six tries before they got it right," she said, pointing her fork at herself.

"Oy!" her brother protested from a little farther down the table.  "Who got prefect, then?  Not you, smarty!"

Ginny wrinkled her nose and turned a superior look on her brother.  "Right.  And _that's_ what I meant."  Cara snickered as Ginny rolled her eyes knowledgably at her friends.

Harry leaned forward at that point, looking confused.  "Then what did you mean?" he asked.

Ginny gave him a pitying look.  "Since you don't understand, there's no way to enlighten you," she said in an 'aren't-you-so-sad' voice.

Harry just looked more confused, and nudged Hermione, who was scribbling notes about something next to him.  "Mione, what's she talking about?" he asked.

Ron poked his fork at his friend.  "Yeah, how can girls just flat out be better than boys?" he asked.  He snorted.  "Girls can't even pee standing up."

At that, Cara and every other girl within earshot groaned.  Hermione even sighed and looked up.  "Honestly, Ron," she said, giving him a pitying look of her own.  "You just proved her point."

"What? But all I said was…" Ron started protesting.

Cara rolled her eyes and turned back to Ginny.  "Are you sure you're related to him?" she asked, pointing her own fork.

"Sadly, yes," Ginny said, spearing another bite of chicken.  "It's that damn hair."

**********

Cara had managed to finish off a nice helping of plum pudding after dinner, and consequently her stomach was pleasantly full as she made her way down to the dungeons.  She even started to whistle as she walked along.  

"Lalalalala…" she hummed, taking the stairs at a hop.  Dinner had revived her spirits.  So she had Mr. Scary Slytherin for a tutor, so what?  It was just a few nights a week, and it was to keep her passing her most hated class.  She'd live.

She swung her bookbag on her shoulder as she bopped along, humming.  "…walking on sunshine, whoa-oh," she hummed to herself.  Ginny had promised to break out the emergency Honeydukes stash afterward.  Now THERE was something to look forward to.

She pushed the classroom door open, still humming, and stepped into the room.  She didn't see anyone, so she danced her way over to a table in the front of the room, and dropped her bag on top.  

"I'm walking on sunshine, oh-oh…  I'm walking on sunshine…" she sang into the quiet room.  "And don't it feel good!"

She did a little shake and a shimmy that she'd picked up from a muggle cousin of hers, and did a quick spin around.  And then another, this one much slower.

She stared into cold, gray eyes.

"If you are quite through," Malfoy drawled.

Cara felt herself turning crimson, and couldn't think of a thing to say.  Cripes.  So much for 'don't let him intimidate you.'

"Set up your equipment," Malfoy said in a cold voice, sweeping his eyes derisively down her and back up.  "If you think you are capable of focusing on even that."

Cara's jaw dropped.  "Who shoved a broomstick up your ass?" she blurted out.  I mean, didn't normal people kind of lead up to insults, she thought angrily.

One slim, pale eyebrow slid up.  "Presumably the same person who taught you to dance," he said in a silky tone.  "You will find cauldrons in the cabinet against the wall.  Try not to break any."

Cara found herself turning and stalking off toward the cabinet, which she was perfectly aware of, thank you very much, mouth opening and closing like a fish in her horrified shock.  She'd never…  I mean…  Merlin's beard, he was _awful_, she thought, banging a door open.  She reached for the first cauldron on the shelf blindly, before something made her take a deep breath.  

She needed his help.  Needed it to pass the class.  She counted ten in her head as she stood there, hand resting on the shelf in front of her.  It wouldn't do to completely alienate the guy even more than he was.  After all, he _was_ a Slytherin.

"The cauldron is the round metal object with a handle, McDouglas," her tutor drawled behind her.  

Then again…  Cara gritted her teeth a moment, then suddenly grinned.  Maybe she could have a little fun with this, she thought, reaching for a standard size cauldron.  

"Oh, is this right?" she asked, turning and widening her eyes.  She might not be a dumb blonde, but her sister was.  And Mum had always said she was a dead-on mimic.

Malfoy, predictably, sneered at her.  Cara just smiled sweetly.  Oh yes, she thought gleefully, walking back to her table, cauldron in hand.  Girls _were_ better than boys.  And wouldn't it be fun proving it.


	5. Battle Lines are Drawn

Ms. CE – yes, Ron is your typical clueless male.  Poor Ron.  Heh heh heh.  I think he's going to have to go through quite a learning curve before he 'gets' girls.  And Cara?  The battle with her and Draco is just beginning…

Shahrezad1 - *falling on your neck in tearful relief*  You found me!  Oh, joy, rapture, rejoicing…  *big toothy grin*  As I said above, the games are just beginning for Cara and Draco, and future chapters might get a bit of a twist to them….  Hee hee.

Everyone else reading – Review please!  Many thanks.

Chapter 5 

Draco resisted the urge to beat his head against the stone wall of the dungeon classroom.  Merlin, the girl was a moron.  She'd confused blubberpus and dragon scales, used a wooden spoon when he'd specifically told her a silver one, and added wood when he'd told her to bank the fire.  She'd said, with big eyes, that she thought he'd said to _build_ the fire, and how was she supposed know, they were both 'b' words?  Didn't 'bank' have to do with money?

Bloody stupid Gryffindors… he thought, savagely, as he carefully copied the clean draft of his own potion proposal.  He kept one eye on the girl who was absently stirring the cauldron.  

"The _other_ left, McDouglas, stir to the _other_ left," he growled at her, his patience just about exhausted.  

"Oops!" the moron chirped, yes, chirped.  She promptly switched hands and continued to stir in the same direction.

Draco shoved up from the table in one frustrated move.  "Dammit, girl, do you have any brains whatsoever?" he barked, taking two strides over to her.  He reached down and grabbed her hand holding the spoon in his.  "_STIR_ the other way!"

As he forcibly attempted to correct her, the idiot's eyes narrowed and she jerked her hand away.  Some of the liquid flew off the end of her spoon and into the air.  Draco hissed in pain as a few drops splattered against where he'd pushed up the arms of his robes, but his attention was focused on his neat stack of parchment.  He watched in horrified fury as the liquid, generously coating his neat and nearly completed proposal fizzled and began to disintegrate the parchment.

"You incompetent twit," he gritted out, gripping her hand tighter and yanking her about to face him.  "You've ruined hours of work."

The girl was glaring at him, with suddenly no sign of the moronic blankness that had been apparent for the past two hours.  "I'M the idiot?" she hissed at him.  "You rat-faced snake-loving _prat_ of a Slytherin…"

Draco's face tightened at the insults, and then a light clicked in his head.  "You've been faking," he said, cold fury lacing his voice, sending the temperature in the room to sub-artic levels.

"Oh, please, I don't know what a dragon scale is…" she cooed, batting her eyes at him, even as they glittered with anger.

Almost involuntarily, Draco tightened his grip on her hand as he registered the fact that he had just wasted two hours of his evening playing this girl's game.  "You…" he said in a near whisper, even as her hand twitched in his.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Malfoy?" came a soft voice from the doorway.  Draco didn't move, except to release the girl's hand.  He watched with hard eyes as she unconsciously flexed it.  

"No, Professor," he said in response.  "Merely Miss McDouglas has spent the past two hours playing some sort of game, rather than using the time for which it was intended."

He heard the soft shuffle of Professor Stone's footsteps as she came closer, but didn't take his eyes from the girl glaring up at him.  "Miss McDouglas?" Professor Stone asked.

"He's insulted my intelligence at every opportunity, Professor," the girl said, not budging an inch.  Fool.  "From the first minute, he's treated me like a nitwit and made it perfectly obvious that I'm a waste of his oh-so-precious time."

"And you are, you pathetic little…" Draco growled, furious that this small Griff would dare talk to him that way.

"Mr. Malfoy," Professor Stone's voice stopped him.  Barely.  "Miss McDouglas."  She stopped next to the two of them.  Draco could feel her regard weighing heavy on his face.  Damn it all.  "I asked you to serve as a tutor, Mr. Malfoy," she said quietly, "because I felt you not only had the knowledge necessary to do so, but because I felt you possessed the maturity and intelligence to truly handle the job."  The girl smirked up at him, and Draco narrowed his eyes at her, even as a flicker of guilt burned inside him.  So he had treated the girl like the imbecile she was.  She'd yet to prove him wrong.

"Miss McDouglas."  Now it was his turn to smirk, as Professor Stone's all-too-knowing gaze swung back to the girl.  "I have given you a tutor in an effort to allow you a way to bolster your grade in the class, to gain the help you _do_ need."  She regarded the two of them.  "You have both disappointed me."  

McDouglas finally looked away from Draco, taking a step back and turning to face their professor.  "I'm sorry, ma'am," she said, looking up at the older woman.  Draco watched here narrowly.  Sneaky, ungrateful little priss…  "You're right.  I got carried away with getting back at him," she jerked her head in his direction and Draco glared.  "It won't happen again.  I promise," she said.  

Professor Stone pursed her lips as she regarded the girl, and then nodded.  She looked at Draco expectantly.  

Bloody hell, he thought.  He took a short breath.  "I apologize," he said through his teeth.  "I will endeavor to do a better job, Professor."  

She watched him for a second, dark eyes assessing him.  Merlin, could she read minds, he wondered briefly?  He knew Snape had been teaching Professor Stone some new tricks…  "Draco," she said in a calm voice, "to teach is to truly succeed.  You do not know something until you have guided someone else to know it in turn."  Draco blinked.  Whatever she'd been going to say, he hadn't expected that.  Her face was soft and serious, and made something soften inside himself in response.  "I believe you can be extraordinary, Draco, and not merely at Potions."

That said, she turned back to McDouglas, and Draco felt more like himself as he noted and enjoyed the girl's discomfort.  "Cara, please clean this up, and come prepared to make a new start tomorrow night."  The girl nodded, respectfully, he was forced to admit, and turned to the cauldron.  Professor Stone looked over at him.  "Draco, help her," she said quietly.  Draco got the distinct impression that she wasn't merely talking about the mess.  He gave a stiff nod.

Professor Stone limped off in the direction of her office as Draco turned to the mess the moron had made.  The girl had made, he corrected himself with a sneer.  She was currently adding baking soda to the cauldron in an effort to neutralize the acidity before disposing of the contents.  

They worked in silence for several minutes, Draco still furious with the girl over her little game.  No one made a fool of him.  He didn't allow it.  And yet this small Gryffindor had played him for nearly two hours, merely because he'd allowed her to fulfill his expectations.  So he cleaned and fumed as he did.

The silence was finally broken by the girl.  "You're a jerk, but I'm still sorry I played around like that," she said from behind him.  Draco stiffened but did not say anything.  He wasn't sure he should do so, not when Professor Stone was still within hearing range.  "Look, I'll tell you what.  You stop calling me an idiot, and I'll stop being a…  well, I'll stop with the games.  And don't imply things, either."  She appeared to be waiting for him to say something, but Draco merely continued tidying the workspace.  Let her prattle on.  _He_ wasn't going to waste his time.

"Merlin," she hissed between her teeth.  "I'm sorry about your papers, ok?  And I'll help you fix them sometime if you like.  Meanwhile, let's just call truce and get on with it."  There was the clanking sound of her setting the cauldron in the cupboard, and then the door of the cabinet swinging shut.  

He ignored her as she walked up to where he stood, gathering his papers.  "Bloody hell, you're an ass," she said in front of him.  "Truce, and I'll see you same time tomorrow night."  With that, she whirled on her heel and stomped off out of the room.

Draco continued to methodically attempt to save the fragments of his Potions proposal as he stood in the silent room.  Gradually he became aware of another presence.  He looked with cold eyes up and around, zeroing in quickly on where the Potions Master stood, half in the shadows of the doorway to his office.  "Sir," he said, jerking his head in acknowledgement of his Head of House.

Snape stood and surveyed him with fathomless eyes.  If Draco was honest with himself, he would admit that Professor Snape was one of the few people he both feared and respected.  The man possessed an awesome amount of knowledge, dark and light, and had the fierceness and cunning to use it.  Furthering Draco's respect, was the knowledge that Snape had had the backbone to stand alone against the Dark, even when his life was on the line.  

After several long, painful moments of the tall dark wizard watching him with those almost frightening eyes, he finally spoke.  "Disappoint Professor Stone," he said, voice low and soft and utterly sincere, "and I will ensure you do not leave at the end of term intact."  From anyone else, Draco would have sneered and laughed at an empty threat, but from Snape…  it made his bones chill.

He jerked his head.  "Sir," he said in response.  He left unspoken the fact that he would sooner do the proposed dismemberment himself than fail the one person who truly believed in him.  

Snape's eyes were cool and remote and far too seeing.  "Finish and get to your dormitory," he said.  He turned and strode silently toward the closed office door of Professor Stone, and Draco paused for just a moment to watch as the Potions Master stepped inside.  

For a moment, something wistful laced through him.  Snape had found something extraordinary in his fellow professor.  Draco had seen, in rare unguarded moments, the older man look at his Professor.  Snape looked at Sonora Stone as if his entire world hung in her hands, as if her simply drawing breath made living worthwhile.  And she…  she did not bother to hide her affection for him.  It simply breathed from her.  

For that one moment, Draco closed his eyes and wished for someone who would look at him the way Professor Stone did at Professor Snape.  It was weak, and he regretted allowing the thought to form a moment later, but for that one moment he admitted there was nothing in the world he craved so intently.  

Then he took a deep breath and pushed the weak thought away.  He sneered once more at the remnants of his proposal, tucking them carefully away into his bookbag.  He had no illusions about finding someone as miraculous as Professor Stone for himself.  And consequently, it was far better for him to focus on what he _could_ do.  He smiled coldly as he made his way from the dungeon classroom toward the Slytherin common room.  And he _could_ plan on making a certain Gryffindor pay for making him the fool.

**********

Cara was carried by pure undiluted anger all the way back up to Gryffindor Tower, and into the common room.  "Aaaahhh!!" she shouted as she approached the couch where Ginny was sitting hunched over a textbook.  

Ginny jumped and stared up at her.  Cara flung her bookbag on the floor and dropped heavily onto the couch beside her friend.  

"Oh dear," Ginny said, sounding just the tiniest bit amused.  "It didn't go well?"

Cara scowled at the floor and crossed her arms.  "Bloody stupid _mean_ git," she muttered.

"And you just realized this?" her friend said dryly.  Cara shot her a glare.  "Sorry, sorry," Ginny said, holding her hands up in surrender.  "Ah, want to talk about it?"

Cara humphed.  "No," she said.  Ginny nodded and flipped a page in her text and appeared to read.  She finished the page and shot a gaze out of the corner of her eyes at Cara, before licking one finger and carefully turning another page.  

"He told me a cauldron was the round metal thing with a handle!" Cara burst out.  "And that I couldn't dance!  And then Professor Stone yelled at us and I felt really bad and dammit I offered to help him fix his stupid paper!"

"Wait, you were dancing?" Ginny asked, dropping the book on the floor and turning to face her.  Cara rolled her eyes.  Trust Ginny to seize on the least important element.  

"I didn't know he was there," she said impatiently.  "I'm telling you, he treated me like I was just barely able to dress myself!"

"Back to the dancing thing," Ginny said.  "What kind of dancing?"

Cara scowled.  "Something one of my cousins showed me," she mumbled.  

Ginny's eyes lit up.  "Ooh!  That move you taught us last year?" she asked.  Cara nodded, just now realizing how humiliating the whole thing had been.  "Wow," Ginny breathed.  "And _Draco Malfoy_ saw you doing that?"

Cara groaned and dropped her head back against the couch.  "You're not helping," she said pitifully.

"Sorry," Ginny said, sounding totally fascinated and completely insincere.  "So then what happened?"

Cara cleared her throat.  "Ah…  I kind of…  decided to play up to his expectations," she admitted.  And then giggled.  It HAD been darned funny, she thought, slowly driving him up the wall by playing the ditz.  

Ginny made a sound in her throat.  "You pretended you were stupid?" she asked.  Sounding, again, waaaaay too fascinated.

"Yeah.  And he kept saying snarky things to me, so I just kept doing, until he finally told me to stir the other way, and so I switched hands rather than directions, and he came over and grabbed my hand to try and make me do it right, and the potion splattered and then it…"

"He grabbed your hand?" Ginny interrupted.  Cara rolled her head to one side to see her friend's jaw about on the floor.

She glared.  "Yes.  Slimy git," she said.  Surprisingly strong slimy git, she thought, a little disconcerted by her wandering thoughts.

"Wow," Ginny said, eyes big and wide.  "I don't think I've seen Malfoy actually reach out and _touch_ someone, for anything, for forever."

Cara snorted.  "He was really pissed off by that point," she mumbled.  And then grinned.  Which had been exactly her intention.  

"So then what?" Ginny asked.  "You said something about his papers…"

Cara cringed.  "The potion kind of splattered and got on some stuff that he'd been working a long time on, and then he got _really_ mad."   Remembering, she flexed the hand he'd gripped and winced.  

Ginny reached out and caught it in one of her own hands, examining Cara's fingers.  "I think you're going to have bruises," she said seriously, no longer looking amused and fascinated.  

Cara bit her lip and sighed.  "It's not that bad," she said.  "Really.  And to be honest, I probably deserved it."  Ginny glared at her at that, and so Cara amended her words.  "Ok, I deserved him getting mad, but not the sore hand."

Her friend nodded.  "Ok."  She let go of Cara's hand and sat back a little.  "So then what?"  

Cara sighed.  "Professor Stone came in, and made us both apologize.  We're supposed to start fresh tomorrow."  Ginny pursed her lips and regarded her with a thoughtful look.  Cara knew that look.  That look usually meant Cara had blue hair or shortened skirts or something else waiting in her future.  "What?" she asked, with no small amount of unease.

Ginny gave her a smirk.  "Nothing," she said, and reached down for her textbook again.  "Just curious about how tomorrow will go."

Cara gave her a wary look.  She'd have to watch her back now, thanks to Ginny and that damn look.  She grumbled a little before heaving herself up off the sofa.  She'd have a shower and maybe work a bit on that Defense essay that was due at the end of the week.  Grabbing her bookbag, she headed for the stairs, passing the corner of the room where Ginny's brother and his friends were sitting.  They were huddled together as if discussing something serious, and Cara wondered what was up with them.  Then she started up the steps to the dormitories and that hot shower.  She could use some chocolate, too. 


	6. Strength and Weakness

HerRoyalInsaneness - *scratching head*  Blue hair?  Huh?  You'll have to enlighten me a bit.  lol.  Although I'm very glad you're reading, enjoying, and most importantly reviewing!  The rest of you readers out there, follow HER lead!  *pointing*

MetroDweller - Thank you!  I seem to have this thing for dark, dangerous, tortured men.  *sigh*  Of course, Draco is blonde, but it's that oh-so-sexy darkness _inside_ that's so intriguing.  Keep reading, and don't hesitate to offer advice if I start to get off-character.  

Shahrezad1 - *greedily wolfing down cookies*  Matchmaker?  Me?  Surely you have me confused with some other overly ambitious writer.  I mean, how could such evil souls as Snape and Draco be relationship material?  *licking lips speculatively*  Mmm.  Snape..  Ahem.  Anyway.  Stay tuned and see whether Draco fights or caves.  Heh heh heh.

To the rest of my Gentle Readers:  Read!  Review!  (and please accept my apologies for this taking so long)

Chapter 6

The next day, Cara was surprisingly cheerful.  At breakfast, there were sticky buns tosavor.  And then Charms in themorning, which always put her in a good mood.  She liked Professor Flitwick, hell, she liked anyone who wasshorter than she was.  

And then after lunch, which had contained a very nice applepie, she had Defense Against the Dark Arts.  And that was her favorite class of all. 

She slipped into a seat next to Ginny, who always tried to hide from her older brother in the back of the room.  Funny thing, it never seemed to work.  

"Good afternoon, Miss Weasley," Professor Weasley calledcheerfully from the front of the room. "And aren't you looking particularly lovely today."

"Bite me, big brother," Ginny mumbled under her breath,trying unsuccessfully to flatten her hair one more time, before smilingsweetly.  "Why thank you,Professor, but don't you think you should be spending the class' time on morevaluable things than my appearance?"  
  


Her older brother smirked as the rest of the class wassettling into their seats, grinning at each other.  They did something like this every class, Cara thought witha smothered smile.  "Ah, but thenthey wouldn't get to find out that you sleep at home with your very favoritestuffed purple panda from when you were three."

"_BILL_!" Ginnyshrieked, looking furious, as the rest of the class broke into laughter. Professor Weasley just grinned and blew his sister a kiss.  

Cara swallowed her giggles and tried to comfort her friend, who was slouched in her seat, muttering furiously under her breath.  Something about telling mum and knowingwhere Bill kept his underwear. Cara blushed at that thought. After all, Professor Weasley _was_quite cute.  

"Don't worry, Ginny, I heard that he's picking on Ron evenworse in class," she whispered.  

"Bloody git of a brother." Ginny was still muttering.

Professor Weasley cleared his throat and Ginny subsided,still glaring blackly at her brother. "Right then, back to the real world," he said with a smile. "Page 102 in your texts, the Bubble Shield.  We've read about it, you've written essays, and today we'll be working on practicing the shield in partners.  You'll try to hold your shield while your partner uses mild hexes.  _Mild_ hexes, now," he emphasized.  "I see any blood, and you'll be scrubbing the underside of every desk in the castle."

Cara grinned and rubbed her hands excitedly.  Now this was what she took this classfor.

"Pair up, and find a clear spot of floor." Professor Weasleywas saying as everyone started moving. Cara grabbed Ginny's hand with hers.  

"Come on, I want to go first," she said excitedly, draggingthe redhead with her over near the wall. 

"Stupid bloody brothers," Ginny was still mumbling, beforeshe shook her head.  "Fine, you cango first.  I feel like hexingsomething, anyway." She shot a last glare over her shoulder at where herbrother was standing on the other side of the room.  

Cara rolled her eyes. "Whatever.  Get over it, andhex me," she ordered as she raised her wand.  "_Bulbous protectiago_!" She felt a thrill when she saw the waivery orange light enclose her. Just like it was supposed to. 

She concentrated on holding that orange glow, as she watched Ginny raise her own wand and start flinging curses at her.  The first one made her shield shake alittle, and Cara's forehead creased with concentration as she focused onsteadying it.  No way was sheletting one of Ginny's hexes through. Not with the mood her friend was in, no way.  She didn't want to think about just how strong thatBat-Bogey Hex would be right now. Another spell thudded hard against the bubble, and she winced. Yep, that was probably the Bat-Bogey, she thought.

They went on that way for nearly fifteen minutes, Cara holding the shield and Ginny trying to break it.  Her arms were starting to ache with fatigue, and she could feel the sweat starting to trickle down her back by the time her friend lowered her wand, looking a little weary herself. 

With a sigh, Cara released the spell, and dropped her wand.  The orange light winked out, and Cara jumped at the sound of someone clapping.  

"Well done, Miss McDouglas," Professor Weasley said approvingly.  "There's not a lot of people I know who can hold a shield against my sister's Bat-Bogey Hex."  He cast a look at his sister. "Which, technically, she wasn't supposed to be using."

"I was pretty sure Cara could handle it," Ginny said sweetly.  

Professor Weasley rolled his eyes.  "Just don't make me tell Mom on you, sis," he said.  "Now switch, and see how you do goingthe other way."  He moved off towhere Colin Creevey had just gotten dropped on his head, thanks to hispartner's particularly strong Leaden Limbs Hex.  

Ginny flexed her arms before grinning at Cara. "Ready?" she asked.

"I'm taking you down, Weasley," Cara said, grinning like a maniac herself.  

"Bring it on," Ginny retorted.  "_Bulbous protectiago_!"

**********

Draco hated this class.  He absolutely hated it.  Honestly, how could anyone be expected to learn a thing when their teacher was translucent, floating five feet in the air, and was duller than his already-dead-self?

He continued to ignore Professor Binns, and instead kept recopying his Potions proposal.  He was determined to hand it to Professor Stone tonight.  _Before_ that wretched little Gryffindor managed to ruin it again.  

He was almost done. He carefully inked the last line, and then blew gently to dry the parchment.  Now all he had to do was turn the whole thing into Professor Stone.  

Sitting back, he looked idly over the rest of the room.  Most of his classmates wereasleep.  He resisted the urge tochuckle at the rather ridiculous sight of Pansy, asleep with her face pressedagainst her quill.  Hesmirked.  She'd have ink all overher face when she woke up.  He wastempted for a minute to add a little something to the ink in question, say, asticking charm, but decided it wasn't worth hearing her screech for the nextweek.

His eyes wandered about the room, eventually stopping on theGolden Trio.  He frowned. Usually Weasley was asleep by this point, and Potter keeping him company. Granger, of course, was always copying down every blasted word Old Binns ever said, just on the off chance it would be on an exam.  Today, however, the three were sitting,heads huddled together, whispering quietly.  

What the devil were they up to now? he wondered, thensneered.  What did he care, Potterand Company were always sticking their noses into something that didn't concernthem.  Sooner or later, they'd getcaught and he'd get to laugh.

Looking back at Binns, he resisted the urge to sigh. Maybe he should take a nap as well, he thought.  Merlin knew he wasn't going to manage anything else productive in this class.  

He slouched low in his seat and rested his head against theback of the chair.  Or, instead ofa nap, he could figure out just what he was going to do to that obnoxious girlhe was stuck tutoring.  Lipcurling, he glared at his proposal. The things he did.  hefumed.  And it was all his bloodyfather's fault.  Every damn bit ofif.  If the old bastard hadn'tgotten in so deep with You-Know-Who, then this summer he wouldn't have had to.

He cut of that train of thought.  He wasn't dwelling on those moments any longer than he hadto.  He had more important thingsto think of, such as the Nerve-Deadening Potion and how it could very well savehis skin by the end of the year. And in order to do that, he had to tutor the little Griff.

Draco resisted the urge to rub his forehead and insteadstared off blankly into space.  What had she said last night? 

What the devil were they up to now? he wondered, then sneered.  What did he care, Potter and Company were always sticking their noses into something that didn't concern them.  Sooner or later, they'd get caught and he'd get to laugh.

Looking back at Binns, he resisted the urge to sigh.  Maybe he should take a nap as well, hethought.  Merlin knew he wasn'tgoing to manage anything else productive in this class. 

He slouched low in his seat and rested his head against the back of the chair.  Or, instead of a nap, he could figure out just what he was going to do to that obnoxious girl he was stuck tutoring.  Lip curling, he glared at his proposal. The things he did.  he fumed.  And it was all his bloody father's fault.  Every damn bit of if.  If the old bastard hadn't gotten in so deep with You-Know-Who, then this summer he wouldn't have had to dodge those visits from dear cousin Bellatrix.

He cut of that train of thought.  He wasn't dwelling on those moments any longer than he had to.  He had more important things to think of, such as the Nerve-Deadening Potion and how it could very well save his skin by the end of the year. And in order to do that, he had to tutor the little Griff.

Draco resisted the urge to rub his forehead and instead stared off blankly into space.  What had she said last night?  _Bloody hell, you're an ass.  Truce, and I'll see you same time tomorrow night._  One corner of his mouth curled sardonically.  Of course he was an ass.  Didn't the girl listen to anything said around Hogwarts?  It was his stock-in-trade, being disliked by one and all.  

He thought of Professor Stone's dark, serious eyes on him last night, and swallowed his disgruntled sigh.  Dammit.  He'd have to make nice, or at least as nice as he could with this annoying girl.  He reached for a clean piece of parchment and his quill.  Maybe he'd try a different tack, one where he didn't have to talk to the girl.  He remembered her hurling insults at his head and snorted silently.  Somehow, he had a feeling she'd make that difficult.

**********

Cara was humming as she swung her bookbag with one hand on her way down to the dungeons.  She'd had a good day.  Defense had been brilliant, especially when she'd managed to sneak a Jelly-Legs Curse past Ginny's admittedly very good Bubble Shield.  She grinned again.  Funny how Professor Weasley hadn't seemed to see Ginny floundering about for nearly five minutes.  He was usually so attentive to how students were doing.  And with all the yelling Ginny had been doing, too.

She giggled at the memory as she pushed the classroom door open, and even managed to hold onto some part of her happy smile as she stepped into the room and came under the surveillance of cold, gray eyes.  

"Let's try this again, shall we?" she said cheerfully, and walked up to where Draco Malfoy, 6th year Slytherin and Arrogant, Mean Prat stood leaning against the wall.  "I'm Cara McDouglas.  I'm in Gryffindor, 5th year, and I can't seem to do a thing right in Potions."

She stood there with one hand held out to him and waited.  And waited.  Hah.  He thought he'd outlast her, she thought smugly.  Mr. Malfoy had NO clue how stubborn she was.  

She kept her smile firmly fixed in place, and stared up into those remote gray eyes.  They were cool and measuring, and hard as the stone wall he was leaning against.  And somehow mesmerizing, she thought in surprise, getting drawn in despite herself.  Was there a hint of something behind those eyes, something softer and kinder?  Something that wasn't quite what it seemed to be on the outside?

And then there was a quick shift in his eyes, as if she could almost hear the click of his mind deciding, and he reached out one hand and took hers.  "Draco Malfoy," he said in a cool drawl.  "6th year Slytherin."

Cara smiled at him, her first genuine smile.  "Right then," she said, still looking up at him, hand still in his.  "Where do you want to start?"

He seemed to be studying her another moment, before he released her hand.  "Bring your materials to this table," he said, in that same cool voice.  "Set up your equipment, and we'll proceed from there."  Cara picked up her bookbag and headed for the table, still smiling.  "And do me a favor," he added to her back, in that same smooth drawl.  

She cast him a glance over her shoulder.  "Yes?" she asked, as she started unpacking her equipment.

His look was measured and remote again.  "Try not to do anything _too_ stupid," he said.

Cara blinked, somehow disappointed that they were back on familiar turf.  "Oh, never fear," she retorted.  "I'd have to be wearing green and silver for that."  

**********

Draco rapped on Professor Stone's office door, all the while keeping a close eye on McDouglas.  The girl was truly incompetent in Potions.  She just couldn't seem to keep her mind on what she was doing.  He told her to add three teaspoons of ground pumice, and she added three tablespoons.  He told her to use a twelve-inch spoon, and she reached for a ten.  He would have suspected her of acting again, but she seemed genuinely distressed by her frequent mistakes.  

Right now, she was sitting and watching her potion, waiting for the color change to occur.  He'd told her to immediately remove the cauldron from the heat when it did, figuring that it was something she was less likely to screw up.  

The office door opened, and Professor Stone appeared.  "Draco," she said with a smile.  "How is the tutoring going tonight?" 

He inclined his head respectfully, knowing that she truly wanted to know.  "Fine, ma'am.  I have my proposal for you."  He held out the neat stack of papers.  

Professor Stone raised one eyebrow.  "Already?  Heavens, you and Miss Granger both, you're so motivated to get started.  You DO know you have all year?"

I don't, he thought.  "Yes, ma'am," he answered.  

She was flipping through the stack, scanning carefully.  "The Nerve-Deadening Potion?" she asked, glancing at him curiously.  "Why that particular potion?"

Draco was now on shaky ground.  He couldn't lie to her, it was simply physically impossible.  When he tried, his throat closed up and the words refused to come out.  And yet, there was no earthly way he would tell her the real reason why he wanted that particular potion.  Instead, he opted for part of the truth.  "It's a difficult one, Professor," he said.  "And since you were the one who invented it, I wanted to try it when you could help me, should I run into any difficulties."

Professor Stone smiled at him.  "You usually don't," she said, and Draco felt a glow at her praise.  "I'll read through this and give you my final decision tomorrow," she said.  "I don't foresee any problems, however."

"Thank you, ma'am," he said, feeling an unaccustomed rush of relief.  He needed that potion, he needed it badly.  and he needed it before it became too late.

"Oh, and Draco, I'm still expecting you Saturday morning, correct?" she asked, as she turned back to her office.  

"I wouldn't miss it, Professor," he said sincerely.  The chance to assist and see the kind of creative genius that she and Professor Snape would do.  That oaf of a gamekeeper and all his nasty animals couldn't drag him away.  She gave him a last nod, and then closed her door once more.

Draco stared at her door a minute, his mind racing.  He would make the potion.  perhaps have the chance to avoid using it until the end of the year.  

A noise behind him drew him back to reality, and he silently cursed.  That damned little Gryffindor.  He'd all but forgotten she was sitting there.  He turned slowly and coldly, his best and most intimidating look firmly in place.  "Are you watching that cauldron?" he asked icily.  

And just as he'd intended, McDouglas jumped and sputtered a startlingly profane phrase before snatching the cauldron from the fire.  And then cursed again as she burnt herself, forgetting that metal became hot when placed over fire for an extended period of time.  

"Perhaps you should leave the pads on," Draco drawled as he dangled the item in question in front of her, used for the very purpose she had forgotten.  

She glared at him, mouth screwed tight in pain.  "Shut up," she muttered, gingerly snatching the heavy pad from his hand, and reaching once more for the cauldron.  He noticed how she winced as she lifted the heavy vessel and frowned.  She hadn't burnt herself that badly, had she?  

He reached over and picked up her hand as she set the steaming cauldron down on the table.  "Apparently you don't know any healing charms," he drawled, examining it as if it were an unusual potion ingredient.  In truth, he was startled.  Her hand had sore-looking red marks from where she'd burnt it against the cauldron a moment ago, but there were also dark smudges of bruises ringing it.

She was glaring at him, and snatched her hand from his.  "Oh, right, rub it in," she retorted.  "Bad enough you gave me the bruises, now you want to make fun because there're still there?"  she snorted and reaching for a flask, slammed it down on the tabletop and proceeded to fill it.  "Well, Mr. I'm-so-smug Malfoy, I _don't_ know how to heal a bruise, because I'm not really accustomed to having them.  And I haven't gotten around to seeing Madam Pomphrey about it, because I've spent my last two evenings down here, with your charming self."  She jammed the stopper into the bottle and shoved it in his direction.  "So bite me."

She was stomping out the door by the time Draco recovered from her little rant, and surprisingly found himself amused.  McDouglas was quite the little spitfire, wasn't she? He thought.  "McDouglas," he drawled as she shoved at the classroom door.  She paused, but didn't turn around.  

"Now what?" she snapped.

He leaned leisurely against the table and just watched her, outrage quivering in every short inch of her body.  Amusing.  "Tomorrow, write out and bring with you what each of your mistakes tonight were," he said coolly.  "We'll be doing the same potion again."

He thought he heard her mutter something under her breath, suspiciously like "bloody pain in the ass Slytherin know-it-all." but then she gave the door a shove and was gone.  Safe and alone, Draco grinned.  He'd admit it.  This tutoring thing could be a little more interesting than he thought.  

His mind flipped to the bruises on the girl's hand and he frowned.  He'd done that?  He cast his mind back and remembered gripping her hand rather tightly during their, ah, disagreement the night before.  Bloody hell.  He hadn't realized that he'd been holding her that hard.  For some reason that bothered him, as the sight of the dark marks on the small, smooth hand had bothered him.  He scowled.  Merlin, he was getting soft.  A few years ago, he wouldn't have thought twice about bruising a girl, a Gryffindor, no less.  His thoughts darkened as his mind went back.  A few years ago, he emulated his father every way he could, right down to using and abusing anyone he pleased.  

He shuddered and pushed the memories away.  And then had come Professor Stone, and she'd somehow dragged something out of him that he hadn't realized had existed.  He silently began to tidy the workspace.  And now, here he was, uncharacteristically feeling bad that some 5th year had a bruised hand.  

He shook his head as he swept the waste into the fire and watched it flare.  He _was_ getting soft.  He'd have to be a bit more careful, considering his own life could be at stake.  He remembered the summer again, and winced.  He could not afford to be soft.  


	7. Every Armor Has a Chink

**My apologies for the formatting glitches in the last chapter.  That'll teach me to write on two separate computers.  

MetroDweller – Given all we know about the Weasleys, I can just picture Bill having far too much fun at his siblings expenses.  Heh heh.  And as for what Draco needs the potion for…  well, you wouldn't want me to give away all my secrets yet, would you?  (don't answer that.)

Shahrezad1 – You know, tea leaves are really easier to read if you don't leave them in tea bags.  Just a suggestion.  Lol.  At any rate, you're not quite right.  And as for guilt, it's the first crack in Draco's armor.  Bwahahaha.  Read below for another…

Everyone else – Read!!  Review!!  Or I will send Ginny and her Bat-Bogey Hex after you!!

Chapter 7

Cara grumbled as she approached the classroom.  "Stupid bloody Slytherin ass…" she muttered under her breath.  She'd spent almost an hour trying to write out what her mistakes last night were.  She'd ended up with nearly two feet of parchment, and hadn't _that_ been a depressing thing.  

She could do everything BUT potions, she thought with a sigh.  Charms?  Outstanding.  DADA?  Exceptional.  Arithmancy?  Above Average.  Potions?  Troll, she thought gloomily, picturing her future OWLS scores.  

She fiddled with her wand as she pushed the door open.  Hah, she thought, glancing around the empty room.  She'd beaten Mr. I'm-So-Bloody-Cool Malfoy.  And what was he doing yesterday, she thought for the millionth time that day, picking on her for not knowing how to heal bruises?  So she didn't know healing spells.  Everyone knew you only learnt those in 7th year, if you were taking the NEWTS Mediwizard Prep Course.  Honestly.  Where did he get off?

She scowled and thumped her bag down on a table.  And did he _have_ to be so bloody smug?  Not to mention sure of himself.  And damn attractive.

Attractive?  

Cara gulped.  She did NOT just think that.  No no no no no, she thought.  Draco Malfoy was a Mean, Know-It-All Slytherin Prat.  In capital letters.  He was NOT attractive, not by a long stretch.  

The door opened at that moment, and the boy in question stepped through.  "Your parchment, McDouglas?" he said in a cool voice, not bothering with a greeting.  

See? She told herself.  Not attractive.  Except for the fact that he was pretty damn cute.  Arrgh!

"Here," she muttered, shoving her admittedly sloppy list at him.  She just hadn't had enough chocolate today, she decided.  Next thing she knew, she'd be thinking that Dennis Creavey was her soul mate, poor sad little boy.  He was almost slavish in his devotion to her and Ginny.  Ugg.  

Malfoy was skimming over her list, one eyebrow raised disdainfully.  Cara scowled.  Jerk.  He was probably thinking of mean things to say.

He looked up and caught her watching him, and smirked.  "You forgot a few, McDouglas," he said in that cool drawl of his.  He tossed the parchment back at her.  "Make the potion again.  This time, without all of those mistakes."

Cara rolled her eyes as she turned to get her cauldron out.  "Right, like _that's_ going to happen," she muttered.

"You'll make this potion until it does," came that maddeningly cool voice behind her.  She gritted her teeth as she pulled out potion ingredients.  Attractive?  Bloody hell, there was no way.  It was a chocolate shortage, she thought, lighting her fire.  And that was that.

**********

Draco sat back and watched the little Gryff working.  "Medium flame, McDouglas," he said in a bored voice.  Merlin, she was making the same mistakes all over again.  How brainless was she?  The girl glared at the fire.  

"Stupid bloody subject," she muttered under her breath.  "Only damn thing in the whole damn school I can't damn do…"

One of Draco's eyebrows shot up.  "Language, Miss McDouglas," he drawled.  Hah.  At least this girl was amusing him from time to time.  Her little rants, such as last night, and now the profanity that littered her speech…  

Just as he expected, she shot him a glare.  "Bite me," she told him, before peering at her parchment.  "Three teaspoons of pumice," she muttered.  "Teaspoons.  Not tablespoons."  He watched as her hand reached for the tablespoon.  "Dammit," she muttered for the ten thousandth time that evening.  "_Teaspoons_."

And that was how the entire evening went.  She'd make the same mistakes again, and most of the time, he had to correct her.  Every now and then, she'd catch one herself, but it was usually him cutting into her mumblings with some sharp remark.  

Finally, Draco couldn't stand it any longer.  "How do you manage to pass your other classes, McDouglas?" he demanded, rising and beginning to sweep the remains of her mess into the fire.  "Your lack of attention is appalling.  You'll do the same potion tomorrow night, until you can do it correctly."

Her face was flushed brightly, from anger and the fire, he guessed, and then wondered why on earth he'd noticed.  Dammit, it was that getting soft thing again.  "I do just fine in my other classes, Malfoy," she snapped.  "I'm top marks in Charms and DADA."

"Then pray explain to me why you are unable to complete the simplest of first year potions correctly," he said silkily.  Because he was really quite curious.  It just didn't make sense.

She glared at him, face bright red.  "I don't know!" she half shouted, before bursting into tears.

Draco stared.  "Stop crying," he ordered.  It didn't seem to have any effect, except to make the girl cover her face with her hands and turn around.  "Dammit, girl, stop it!"

"B-bite me," managed to emerge from the sobs McDouglas was making.  

"Is that your answer to everything?" he growled, extremely uncomfortable, and not sure what to do about it.  What if Professor Stone or Professor Snape walked in?  They'd think that this was _his_ fault for making her cry.  "I said, stop crying!"

She just kept wailing, these little shaking sniffles that was barely crying at all, but enough to make him very uneasy.  

"Dammit," he growled again.  There was no choice for it.  If he wanted the bawling to stop, he'd have to do something.  He wracked his brain.  He had no clue what to do with a crying female.  

Finally, digging some piece of an inane conversation he'd overheard back in third year between Pansy and Millicent, he pointed his wand at the tabletop.  "_Choco bittersweetus_," he said.

A bar of chocolate appeared on the table, but the wailing girl didn't seem to notice.  Cautiously, staying out of reach, Draco used his wand to push the chocolate closer.  "McDouglas," he tried ordering.  "Quit crying."  He pushed the chocolate again.

Her head came up like she was going to spit something at him, her eyes blotchy and red and face wet.  And then she seemed to see the chocolate, and her mouth dropped open.  Draco felt a wave of relief.  She'd stopped crying.  

"Is… is that for me?" she asked in a rather squeaky voice.  

Draco scowled.  "Eat it and get yourself under control."  He glared at her as she kept staring at him, giving the occasional sniffle.  Merlin, why him? He bemoaned silently, not for the first time.  He'd wager girls didn't wail all over Potter.

Her lips started to tremble again, and Draco started to panic.  "You start crying again, and I'll show you the proper way to perform the _silencio_ charm!" he snapped.

She closed her mouth with a snap, and seemed to glare at him then.  "You're mean," she said, sniffling again.  And she reached out and grabbed the bar of chocolate, tearing off the wrapper and taking an enormous bite.  

He sneered, feeling vastly relieved, now that the waterworks seemed to be over.  "So I've been told, McDouglas," he said.  "Write out your mistakes again, and be here Monday, same time, to try it again."  He smirked as he got up and started to gather his things.  "Perhaps you'll get it right by the end of the month."

She took another bite of the chocolate, rather savagely, and glared at him through red-rimmed eyes.  She mumbled something through the chocolate, and for a split second Draco was afraid she would start crying again.  "You've wasted enough of my time tonight," he hastily snapped, before bolting for the door.  

Safely in the hall, he blew out a breath of relief.  He'd rather face Hagrid and that mentally deficient hippogriff from third year than go through _that_ again.

She didn't even cry pretty, he thought.  Pansy had tried pulling tears on him a few times last year, and had quickly found out he refused to be swayed by them.  Draco mentally shuddered.  But Pansy had mastered the art of crying without mussing herself.  McDouglas, on the other hand, had bawled and promptly been covered in snot and other disgusting fluids.  It had been so… messy.  So genuine.  

Draco blinked.  Genuine?  Where on earth had that come from, he wondered.  She was an annoying little brat that he was forced to spend far too much time with.  End of story.  

Scowling at himself, he entered the Slytherin common room and made for his dorm.  He needed some sleep, he thought.  Clearly.  

**********

Cara sniffled one last time and finished the bar of chocolate.  That had been almost…  nice of Draco.  Malfoy, she corrected herself.  She'd started crying, because it was just too depressing, not being able to understand _why_ she couldn't handle this class, and she couldn't have helped bursting into tears.  All she'd been able to think was that she was going to fail, and Professor Stone would be so disappointed in her, and Malfoy would laugh and say he knew she was worthless all along, and then Ginny wouldn't talk to her anymore because she'd be a loser, and her parents would write angry Howlers and she'd be humiliated at breakfast when she had to open them in front of the whole school…

Just then the classroom door swung open and she gulped back her sniffles.  Oh dear, she thought, as Professor Snape strode in.  He stopped to glower at her.  "What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"I…  um…  was working with my tutor," she managed to squeak out, tempted to cower under the desk, he looked so evil.  Maybe he really _was_ a vampire and was secretly prowling the school, looking for unsuspecting victims…

"Where's Malfoy, then?" Snape's cold voice brought her back to reality.

"We, um, finished for the night," Cara said, her voice wavering just a bit.

Snape raised one eyebrow as his eyes dropped to her cauldron.  "And is _that_ your potion?" he asked, scorn practically dripping off his tongue.

Cara gulped and looked down at the mess, ashamed all over again at her lack of brains.  "I…  haven't got it right yet," she said in a near whisper.  

There was silence for a moment, and Cara could almost feel Snape smirking down at her.  So when he spoke again, she almost swallowed her tongue, she was so surprised.  

"Potions takes patience, persistence and a careful attention to detail.  You have the first two, by virtue of your presence here," his voice said above her head.  She was practically frozen with shock.  "Mr. Malfoy is endeavoring to teach you the third.  Follow his instructions, and you may possibly pass your class."  She heard his steps begin to move off, and jerked her eyes up to stare after him, black robes billowing and bat-like.  He paused and turned to survey her with cold eyes again.  "Then again, you _are_ a Gryffindor," he said.  "That alone leaves you with a nearly insurmountable handicap."

And then he was gone into his office, and Cara was left gaping after him.  Had he…  had Snape…  just been…  NICE???

"Close your mouth, Miss McDouglas," came Professor Stone's voice from her office doorway.  "He _is_ quite a decent human being, you know."

"I…  uh…  ma'am…" Cara stuttered.

Professor Stone smiled at her.  "Clean up and go to bed, Miss McDouglas.  I think you've had enough for tonight," she said, voice warm.  Cara blindly started to do as she was told, before her teacher's voice stopped her again.  "They really are quite a bit alike, aren't they?" she said.

"Uh… who, ma'am?" Cara said, looking up at her in confusion, hands pausing in the middle of repacking her bag.

She was treated to a nearly blinding smile, before her professor stepped back into her office and closed the door.  Cara shook her head, perplexed, and finished gathering her things.  Boy, did she need to talk to Ginny.  And some more chocolate couldn't hurt, although the stuff Draco had conjured had been very good, creamy with a slightly bitter taste, just like good Honeydukes Dark…  

Malfoy, she told herself again.  His name is Malfoy.  Biting her lip, she headed for the Gryffindor common room.  Definitely more chocolate.

**********

Draco stepped into the shower and felt the hot water run down his body, soothing the sore muscles.  It seemed like some of the pain never left.  There were always lingering aches in odd places.

It was just as well he'd not been invited back to the Quiddich team, he thought, slowly soaping his torso.  His fingers ran across the thin ridges of scars, following them across his belly and around his lower back.  There was no way he could have hidden these from his former teammates, not the way the showers were set up in the changing rooms.

He touched the one just under his left arm.  That one had hurt the most, he thought, the memory dark and foreboding.  It dragged him back into the past summer, back into memories of night and pain and curses and that damned crazy woman laughing…  he shuddered and dropped his hand.  Hence his research.  

Briskly, trying to push the thoughts away, he reached for the shampoo.  He was allowed to assist Professor Stone tomorrow, and then next week, he would begin his own work.  Some additional research would be needed, in order to tweak the potion the way he wanted, but he had faith he could find a solution.  After all, he _was_ a Malfoy, and his family was not known for it's stupidity, no matter their flaws.


	8. Individual Lives

To my faithful readers:  Yes, I know, this is a short chapter.  It's mostly a bridge to what will come next.  Which I promise, will begin to include some intrigue and romance…

Shahrezad1 – You and that crystal bowling ball.  Hmm.  Please excuse this mindless plot and character development…  the real fun will start in Chapter 9.  heh heh.  Oh, but still review.  Lol.

MetroDweller – Yes, they are…  and our darling Boy-Who-Lived will get to join the 'club' soon…

Ms. CE – I'm pretty much of the opinion that chocolate solves everything.  Not that a man would know that.  Lol.   As for Bellatrix…  more will be revealed in upcoming chapters.  

Chapter 8 

Draco was, to put it simply, excited.  He had three freshly sharpened quills, a full bottle of ink (he'd topped it off with Flourish & Botts best last night), and a stack of clean parchment.  He was ready.

Professor Stone giggled, yes, giggled, as he neatly arranged his workspace.  "A little overly enthusiastic, Draco?" she asked, lips curled up and eyes twinkling.  

Draco scowled at her, as a matter of form.  "I like to be prepared," he said haughtily.  And secretly laughed as well.

Professor Stone's eyes were gleeful and knowing.  "Well, as soon as MR. VERY SLOW GETS HERE," she hollered in the direction of Professor Snape's office, "we can begin," she finished in a normal voice.  

"Really, Sonora, must you shout?" Came Snape's smooth drawl from his dark pit of an office.  "I assure you, it will not result in my transporting the ingredients _you_ requested any quicker than I currently am."  

Professor Stone winked at Draco.  "I'm the excitable type," she called.  "I don't like waiting."

"I know," came a dark mutter, and Draco had to stifle his chuckle.  There were far too many meanings to _that_ reply, as Professor Stone's blush proved.  

He cleared his throat, hoping to get back to what he'd been waiting all week for.  "Professor, what are you and Professor Snape working on?"

Professor Stone shot a last glare toward Snape, who was just emerging from his office, a loaded tray in his hands.  The Potion Master smirked in return.  "Actually, Draco," Professor Stone said, turning back to him.  "You may find this rather interesting."  Draco felt his blood stir in interest.  "You remember the _Crucio_ potion from last year," she said.  Draco nodded.  She'd finally told him the whole truth of the potion during that dreadful time when Umbridge had been running the school, saying that she needed someone else she could trust to know what and where the potion was stored.  She hadn't wanted it falling into the wrong hands, and had feared that Umbridge would confiscate her supplies, or worse, ban her from the school.  Fortunately the later had never happened, but she and Snape _had_ been forbidden to use school property to further their research.  The 'Headmistress' had been deeply suspicious of everyone and their ties to Dumbledore.

"Professor Snape and I spent the summer working on the theory behind turning the potion from a Potion of Intent into one that can be used more generically."  Professor Stone shifted to the side as Snape set down the tray, her arm brushing his.  To Draco's eyes, the movement was natural, easy, and completely intentional.  He smothered a smile.  Professor Stone liked to touch.  She _especially_ liked to touch Professor Snape, particularly when they were out of a classroom setting.  He sometimes enjoyed watching them at the Head Table, as Snape scowled and squirmed and tried to pretend he wasn't savoring every bit of contact.  

Draco furrowed his brow just a touch as he processed what she said.  "Can that be done?" he asked, confused.  He'd thought, having done all that reading last year on Potions of Intent, that what she was proposing was impossible.

Professor Snape spoke now.  "Nothing is impossible, Mr. Malfoy, it has merely not been accomplished yet," he said, his voice low and deep and smooth.  His black robes billowed a bit as he began to arrange supplies before their cauldron.  

"So, you've found a way…" Draco's voice trailed off.  Wow.  Wow.  He gripped his quill tightly, hands beginning to sweat a little in excitement.

Professor Stone grinned at him, eyes sparkling.  "Exciting, isn't it?  We think we've got some possibilities…  but time will tell," she said, as Professor Snape began to stir ingredients into the cauldron.  "Don't forget the lacewings, Severus."

"Indeed, because it was my intention to leave them out entirely," he murmured in a sarcastic overtone.

Draco gripped his quill again and grinned.  He began to write the list of ingredients as Professor Snape murmured aloud.  "Two teaspoons of powdered Graphorn, four cups of purified water…"

**********

"No!  What are you, insane?"

"I prythee, wench, cease and desist your treasonous action at once!"

"Put me down put me down put me down!"

"NOOOOOO…."

Cara rolled her eyes as she picked up her bishop.  Her queen was currently screeching bloody murder, hopping up and down and shaking her tiny stone fists at Cara, all the while on the other side of the board a black knight was staring at her with a gleam in his stone eyes.

"Excuse me?" she said in an affronted tone, her voice raised over the noise of her pieces.  "If you'd shut up long enough, you'd get to see this," she said, setting the bishop down.  He was wiggling enough that she was afraid she'd drop him, anyway.  She looked up at Ginny and grinned.  "Checkmate."

Her king paused.  "Oh, well in that case, jolly good, well played."

"Here, here," chimed in a suddenly much happier queen.

"Bloody hell!  We never loose!" bellowed the black king, raising his sword.  "Stay back, you ruffians!"

Ginny rolled her eyes.  "This is the last time I borrow Ron's board," she said.  "His pieces are all nutters."

Cara grinned down at her white pieces, who were currently engaged in some sort of victory revel, which included some big group dance-thing.  "I dunno, Gin, these guys seem pretty happy."

Ginny snorted as she started packing away the still furious black pieces.  "That's because Ron is always black, and Harry is always white.  And Harry always looses."

Cara giggled as she started putting away the still-celebratory white pieces.  "Harry's that bad?"

"Well, that and Ron's that good," Ginny said ruefully, waiting until the last pawn had been put in place before shutting the lid.  "Much as I hate to admit it."

"Speaking of Harry," Cara said, leaning back into the couch, unwilling to go start her Charms homework like she should.  "Is he ok?  I saw him the other day, and he looked white as a sheet…"

Ginny frowned.  "Two days ago?" she asked.  "Because I think I saw him then, too, and I know what you mean…" her voice trailed off and she sighed.  "Of course, all the big prat would say was 'I'm fine', and 'Isn't it time for lunch'?"  She glared down at the chess box.  "Jerk," she muttered.

Cara sat and considered her friend.  "Gin," she said cautiously.  It was always smart to be a bit cautious around Ginny Weasley, she was far to smart and hot-tempered to do otherwise.  "Um, just how bad is your crush on him?"

Ginny jerked her eyes up to Cara and glared.  "I don't have a crush on Harry Potter!" she hissed.  "I got over that two years ago, thank you very much."  She stood up in a huff, grabbing the chess box.  "Honestly, just because he doesn't seem to want to tell me, his _friend_, about whatever's got him upset doesn't mean that I still have a crush on him!  So there!"

Cara held up her hands.  "Ok, sorry, my mistake," she said carefully, not wanting to meet the famous Bat-Bogey Hex without her wand in her hand.  "I was just a little curious."

Ginny glared at her.  "I have homework to do," she announced before storming off, chess box in hand.

Cara watched her go, before sighing.  Ginny'd get over it, and they'd be fine by dinner.  But in the meantime, she reflected glumly, she had no excuse anymore not to do her Charms essay.  Darn it all.


	9. A Late Night

MetroDweller – I hope this fulfills your expectations!  Just remember…  more is to come…

Shahrezad1 - *backing away slowly*  Math?  Uh…  I'll just…  be… over there…  *pointing*  Oh, and so this isn't quite as dramatic as I might have implied, in the romance area…  but still!  I gotta save _something_ for later!  Lol.

Ms. CE – Heh heh heh.  Ginny and Harry.  Have I implied there's another tale to come?  *big cheesy grin*  

Everyone!!  Especially those silent readers *pointing at YOU*!!  Read!  Review!  Thank you!

Chapter 9

It had been a bloody long week.  Cara rubbed her forehead wearily with the non-spoon hand.  At least she'd remembered not to use the spoon this time, she mentally sighed.  She'd done that in class this morning, and the skin was still tender.  Damn that lizard bile.  

"Done, McDouglas?" came Malfoy's drawling voice.  He was a few tables away, carefully measuring and stirring himself.  She didn't know what the heck he was working on, but boy was he concentrating.  If he didn't say something to her every now and then, even though it was always something nasty, she'd have thought he'd forgotten her presence.  Whatever this potion he'd started, it must be a humdinger.  She grinned.  Humdinger.  That was a funny word.  

Snapping back to reality, Cara peered down into her cauldron.  "Umm," she mumbled, chewing one lip.  "What color is it supposed to be again?" She'd ended up with so many different shades, she wasn't sure what the original color should be.

Malfoy heaved a sigh, even as his eyes were narrowed intently on a carefully leveled teaspoon of something gray and liquidy.  "Purple, you slow-wit.  A lovely shade of pale purple, which has yet to appear in your cauldron."  He stirred slowly, rhythmically, almost hypnotically as he tipped that spoonful of stuff into his cauldron.  Cara watched fascinated as swirls of silver streaked through the contents, slowly fading into a gray-blue.

"What are you making?" she asked, really curious.  It was one of her problems, that damn curiosity.  It made her do stupid things like attempt a conversation with her incredibly prickly and rude tutor.

"What color is your bloody potion, McDouglas?" Malfoy drawled, completely ignoring her.  Jerk, she thought huffily.  He probably slept on a bed of rocks, and ate small children for breakfast, washing them down with ground up puppies and kittens…

There was a deliberate throat-clearing, and Cara jumped.  Right.  Potion.  

She looked down, and her jaw dropped.  "Uh… this can't be right," she said.  

"Why?  What color is it this time?" he said, sounding utterly bored, as he banked his fire, setting the cauldron back on the coals.  

"Well, um…  you see…" she stammered.  Still not sure.  She double-checked.  Damn.  It was unbelievable.  

"Dammit, McDouglas, just how badly did you screw up _this_ time?" he demanded, eyes narrowed as he strode over to her cauldron.  She stepped back as he brushed by, peering inside.  "Hmm," he said as he looked at the contents.

"I know," she said, still not really believing it.

Malfoy raised one eyebrow and looked at her.  "Congratulations, McDouglas, that's your first correct potion in the three years."  Cara flushed with pleasure, then glared as she took in the insult behind the compliment.  "I checked," he said with a smirk.

"Jerk," she muttered.  "So I really did it?  It's correct?"

Malfoy in answer reached over and picked up the paring knife she'd used on the ginger root.  Her jaw dropped as he proceeded to slice open the tip of one finger.  "What…  you idiot!" she sputtered as blood began to well.  

"Do you think I would do this if it wasn't correct?" he said coolly, dipping out a spoonful of the potion.  He proceeded to pour it over the bleeding cut and Cara watched in fascination as the wound closed, steaming just a bit.  

"That's bloody fantastic," she finally said.  Her smile felt like it was stretching her cheeks until they were going to break.  "I did that!  I made something that did _that_!"  She wanted to jump up and down in joy, and so she did, bouncing on her feet and flinging her hands up in the air. "I'm the king of the world!" she hollered, throwing her arms wide just like in that stupid Muggle movie.  Sure it was dumb, but boy did it fit the moment.

"Are you quite through?" Malfoy drawled.  Not even His Icyness could ruin Cara's mood.  

"Stuff it, you prat," she said beaming.

For a second, she thought she saw the corners of his lips twitch, but figured it must have been a trick of the light.  "Bottle it, and for Merlin's sake, don't forget the Unbreakable Charm," he said.  "I have a feeling you'll need this much and more by the end of the year."

"I'm the king of the wo-ORLD…  I'm the king of the wo-ORLD," Cara half-sang, have chanted as she boogied her way to the beakers.  Oh yeah.  Who needed chocolate to get high?  This was great.  She danced back with the beakers, ready for anything.  

**********

Draco methodically checked one last time to be sure the fire was properly banked, his workspace pristinely clear, and his notes safely tucked away.  He couldn't afford any mistakes.  What he was trying to do was risky enough without a foolish mistake.

Speaking of foolish mistakes…  he glanced over at the still-celebrating girl.  Great ghosts, did she call that dancing?  It reminded him of something he'd seen when one of the house elves had had a fit.  And she was still chanting that bloody phrase.  He didn't want to know where _that _came from.  

He kept one eye on her, making sure she could bottle properly.  It was a reasonable fear, he thought dryly.  After all, she hadn't bottled a proper potion since that infamous last correct potion in her second year.  But she was pouring carefully, despite the fact that her hips were still wiggling madly as she did.  And she handled the stopper with the proper amount of care, and her Unbreakable Charm was quick and efficient.  He grimaced.  And it barely managed to interrupt her steady stream of unpleasant singing.

"Done, McDouglas?" he said coolly.  

"Just cleaning up," she said, still wiggling around the room.  It was getting distracting.  Draco was not used to finding himself watching a girl, for any reason, and that irritated him.  Why was he watching this one doing her rather insane dance?

"Hurry up," he said coldly.  "I've spent enough time on you tonight."

She flicked her wand and somewhat to his surprise, everything was clean and in its proper place.  Hmm.  Apparently the little Gryff was good at Charms, he thought.  "All done," she sang, snatching up her bookbag.  "See you tomorrow!"  She headed for the door, still 'dancing' and singing.  "I'm walking on sunshine, oh-OH!  I'm walking on sunshine…"

Draco winced and heard the door close behind her with relief.  Thank Merlin.  She truly was a bad singer.  An enthusiastic but bad singer.  He pulled out a quill and parchment, and quickly scribbled an outline of the evening for Professor Stone, jotting down both the girl's success and his own beginning on his project.  He affixed it to her office door with a tap of his wand, and then slung his bookbag over his shoulder.  His shoulder ached as he did.  

He'd have to take another hot shower tonight, he thought wearily.  Damn that Bellatrix.  Hot showers were about the only readily available thing he'd found that soothed the pain.  He rolled the sore shoulder as he strode down the silent halls toward the Slytherin common room.  

Turning a corner, he was forced to halt.  Scowling, he surveyed the mess in front of him.  Those damn Weasley's and their ridiculous joke shop.  The majority of their products were purchased for use on the Slytherins.  Currently, some jokester-wannabe had filled the last three hundred feet of corridor to the common room with a lesser version of the Weasley's expanding swamp.  He sniffed.  At least this one didn't smell as foul.  

Draco sighed and began retracing his steps.  Fortunately, there was a back door that only a few students were aware of.  He'd have to walk nearly to Gryffindor and back, but it was better than trying to ford that ridiculous yet impressive swamp.  

Draco was climbing one of the hundreds of staircases when he caught a whisper up ahead.  His eyes narrowed.  Some prankster out for more fun?  Probably the ones who'd 'decorated' the Slytherin corridor.  He smiled with deep satisfaction.  He'd be more than happy to wake Professor Snape with the culprits in hand.

Moving on silent feet, he peered around the corner.  Two boys he recognized vaguely as third-year Ravenclaws were huddled in a corner of a nearby staircase.  They were staring avidly at yet another staircase on the far side of the hallway.  He frowned.  What _were_ they doing?

As he watched, a small and oblivious figure came wiggling around the corner and headed for the empty stair in question.  Draco had just enough time to recognize McDouglas as she began to climb and the boys let out one muffled giggle.  Then his eyes widened as the stair began to vanish behind her.  He stared in disbelief as the steps she'd already walked up simply vanished, and then as the ones in front of her began to do the same.  

McDouglas finally looked up, then, and let out a shriek of alarm as she realized that she was heading for what looked like thin air, and pressed herself back into the wall as she stood, trapped on the landing of her staircase.  The boys giggled again, and then took off, leaving Draco with a dilemma.  

His dilemma was solved when he realized the stairs were vanishing still, and that the landing was likely to be next.  Bloody hell, he thought grimly.  Was he going to have a few words with those dimwitted Ravenclaws.

"McDouglas," he shouted as he started down his stairway, intent on heading to hers.  Her head whipped up, as she pressed back into the wall.  There was a look of terror on her face.  

"M-Malfoy?" she quavered.  "What's going on with the steps?"  

He moved as fast as he could, not entirely sure if the steps were merely invisible.  It _looked_ like a Transparent Charm, but knowing those mindless incompetents, they could have done something wrong and made the stairs truly vanish.  In which case, McDouglas was about ten seconds from falling to her death a hundred feet down.  

And then her rapidly shrinking stair gave a jolt, and started to move.  She shrieked as she lost her balance as the stair started moving away from the wall.  "Dammit," Draco shouted as he gave up and reached for the railing.  As he leaped as hard as he could toward the patch of visible stair, he shouted "_Accio Cara_!"

His feet hit solid stone landing even as she was yanked back up and tumbled into him.  "Bloody hell, hold still," he gritted as he tried not to fall.  She'd knocked him a little off balance, and he was already sore today.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god," she was saying, eyes wide and terrified.  Her hands were clutching tightly at his sleeves.  

"McDouglas, snap out of it," he ordered through his teeth.  He cast a wary eye at the now no longer visible rest of the stairway.  They were still moving.  He slid one foot out, testing the vanished part.  Much to his relief, it was solid beneath his foot.  So they weren't about to fall to their death.  

"Just hold still, it's invisible," he ordered the girl, who'd thankfully gulped and gotten a grip on herself.  Of course, she was white as a sheet and shaking just a touch, but he supposed nearly falling to your death caused that reaction.  

They waited in tense silence for the stairs to stop, her fingers biting into his arms.  Finally, the stair ground to a halt, silence once again filling the air.  Draco cast a wary look down, and then quickly back up again.  Sure enough, the landing beneath them was now invisible.  

"It's gone, isn't it?" she said, face still white.  

"Bloody stupid Ravenclaws," Draco muttered.

McDouglas closed her eyes.  "Um, should I mention that I have a fear of heights?"  her voice was tight and more than a little squeaky.  Draco's eyes widened.

"You are _not_ going to cry," he ordered.  "It does nothing to help the situation."

"Bite me, I'll cry if I want to," she bit off, still shaking just a tad.  Draco could feel the fine tremors as he gripped her around the waist, ensuring she held still.  After all, they didn't know where the landing ended anymore.

"Dammit, McDouglas…" he started, before she interrupted.

"Do you have a handkerchief?" she demanded, eyes still squeezed tight shut.

"You are _not_ going to cry!" he ordered again, starting to feel panicky himself.

"Just answer the question, do you have a handkerchief?" she said again, voice tight and barely controlled.  And eyes still squeezed shut, fingers still tightly gripping his arms.  

"Yes," he got out before she interrupted again.  

"Lay it down next to us."  When he just blinked in confusion, she exploded.  "Dammit, Draco, I'm hanging on to my sanity by the tip of my fingers!  Unless you want to go completely crazy, just do it!"

Eying her a little cautiously, Draco slowly released one hand from her waist, waited a beat to be sure she wouldn't move and risk falling off the non-existant stairway, and reached into his pocket.  He pulled out the square of white linen and bent to lay it near her right foot.  

"Ok," she said and took a deep breath.  She unclenched one hand, and fumbled in her own pocket, pulling out her want.  "Ok," she repeated, and opened her eyes.  She stared at him for a second, her dark eyes scared and determined and more than a little fascinating for some reasons he didn't care to examine, and then looked down.  "_Fiberous replicous_!"  Draco jumped as the handkerchief began to expand and lifted his feet to let it move underneath the two of them.  

He heaved a sigh of relief.  Brilliant.  They were no longer staring down into thin air, the landing was now covered with a layer of linen.  

"Ok, ok…" she was repeating, remaining fingers still tightly gripping his arm.  "Ok, this is better.  Ok."  

Draco took a deep breath himself.  "Not bad, McDouglas," he said.  "Unfortunately, we appear to be stuck."  He watched as she looked 'up' and then 'down', seeing nothing but blank space between them and the walls.  By a stroke of incredibly bad luck, they weren't lined up with a single doorway, and with no stairs visible, they were effectively trapped.

"Oh boy," she said weakly.

**********

Cara sat, slumped back against the stone wall and stared out into the dark empty air.  They were trapped until this bloody stair reappeared and moved again.  Stupid kids.  She'd hex off their ears when she found them.

Next to her, Draco was sitting, silent and stiff as well.  Cara frowned.  In fact, he seemed rather uncomfortably stiff, rather than his usual disapprovingly stiff.  

She rolled her head to study him.  His face was tight, sure enough.  He looked over and glared at her.  "Are you all right?" she asked, ignoring the now-customary uninviting look.

He looked down his nose at her.  "Aside from being trapped on an invisible staircase with you?" he asked sardonically.

She was still studying him.  "It's…  your shoulder," she said out loud, as it clicked.  "It hurts, doesn't it?  Did you hurt it jumping?"  She bit her lip.  "I have all the healing potion in my bag…"

Draco snorted, looking away again.  "I'm fine," he said dismissively.

"Uh-huh," she said skeptically.  She reached over and deliberately poked him in what she suspected was a sore spot.  Sure enough, he hissed a breath, and his head whipped around to glare at her again.  

"Keep your hands to yourself," he ordered.

Cara frowned.  "Is it just sore, or did you hurt it when you jumped?" she demanded, sitting forward and turning to face him.  He glared at her.  She glared back.  And then, much to her shock, he answered.

"I did not hurt my shoulder when I jumped onto your bloody vanishing stair," he said through his teeth.  

Cara nodded, thinking.  "So it's something that's sore?" she asked.

"Why?" he demanded, eyes narrow and cold even in the dark.

"Turn around," she ordered, pushing back her sleeves, then sighing and pulling off the voluminous school robe.  Damn thing always got in the way, she thought pushing up her sleeves.  Draco was still glaring and eyeing her.  She sighed.  "My mother's a healer," she said.  "Turn around."

He didn't move for a long moment, as she tried to stare him down.  This was Draco Malfoy, the scariest damn boy in school, and she was ordering him to turn around.  Boy, was she brave.

Finally, he eased around halfway.  Cara let out a breath she wasn't aware she was holding.  "Just hold still," she said, reaching out.  She settled her hands on the sore shoulder, gently feeling for the tight muscles.  She frowned.  It was impossible to tell through the robe and school sweater.  

"Take off your robe and sweater," she told him, still feeling.  "I can't quite tell."

"Tell what?" he demanded yet again.  

She flexed her fingers against his shoulder.  "My mom's been teaching me some of the Muggle therapies she's been learning," she said.  "They're for sore muscles."

He snorted.  "Bloody idiot muggles," he muttered under his breath.  But he moved to take off the robe, and then pulled his sweater over his head.  Cara stared at his back, the white shirt gleaming in the dark.  

She stretched out her hand and settled her fingers.  His shoulder was warm through the thin shirt.  "Muggles know a lot of useful things," she said as her fingers started to probe, just like her mother had taught.  He hissed a breath as she found a tight knot.  "Hold still."  Slowly she pressed and rubbed, trying to loosen the muscle.  "I mean…"  her voice trailed off and she fell silent as his head dropped forward, telling her without words that what she was doing was helping.

She worked quietly then.  His shoulder was strong and well-muscled beneath his shirt, with the faintest of ridges under his arm.  She wondered what that was.  Her fingers were beginning to ache, but she kept going, searching out every knot and working to loosen it.  She moved on to the other shoulder, then his back.  His head dropped farther forward, his hair pale and hanging forward, hiding his face.  

Finally, her fingers were aching intensely, and she couldn't keep going.  Despite the fact that she wanted to, that the feel of his back beneath her hands was strangely addictive.  Reluctantly she lifted her hands and began to rub her sore joints.  

He lifted his head, and slowly turned back around.  He pulled his sweater over his head again, and leaned back against the wall, eyes avoiding hers.  She watched him, curious.  This was weird.  He was Draco Malfoy, for Merlin's sake.  She shouldn't be feeling…  soft, not toward him.

The silence was broken by him.  "Thanks," he said gruffly.

Cara couldn't explain the feeling that lit her up inside.  It was…  soft, she thought again.  "You're welcome," she said in a nearly inaudible voice.  She settled back next to him, back against the wall, arm barely brushing his.  She'd have to think about this.

**********

Draco stared out into the darkness.  They'd been trapped for hours now, and it looked like the staircase wasn't about to move any time soon.  

Cara had fallen asleep, her head drooping until it came to rest against his shoulder.  And surprisingly, he hadn't jabbed her with an elbow and made her move as he'd intended.  Instead, he'd looked down at her face, eyes lidded and lips relaxed, and had merely settled her more comfortably.  He'd even cautiously slid his arm about her, bringing her into the crook of his arm.

Now she was nestled warmly against his side.  Glancing down, he saw her uniform skirt had ridden up above her knees.  He hesitated a moment, and then reached and smoothed it down.  Her legs were warm and smooth beneath his fingers and he took them away quickly.  He pulled her robe closer and then over her, draping it over her as she slept against his side.  

He stared out into the dark again.  He wasn't sure what was happening.  He wasn't even sure he liked it.  But for the moment, he wasn't sure there was much else he could do.  She shifted a little in her sleep, cuddling closer against him, and he closed his eyes, tipping his head back.  Merlin, he was tired.  And somehow, she felt…  good.  

His eyes began to get heavy.  He hadn't been this relaxed since well before his father had died.  Her fingers had worked magic on his shoulder, then his back.  He started to slip into sleep, and his last thought was that he hoped they woke before the staircase moved.  


	10. Goodnight, Sleep Tight

Shahrezad1 and MetroDweller – It's not quite tomorrow yet, so… do enjoy this little bit! Oh, and here's some of the intrigue I promised you…

Chapter 10

Cara was awake, wet and cold when the staircase decided to move. Not more than two minutes before she and Draco felt the jolt and hurriedly scooted to the middle of the landing, Peeves had woken them with icy-cold water balloons. And it had been while they were still sputtering and ducking that the stupid stair finally started moving.

"Students out of bed!" Peeves had jeered. "Students doing what they shouldn't, students where they shouldn't be!" He'd zoomed off, still hollering. "Fitch! Fitch! Students out of bed…"

"Bloody stupid poltergeist," Cara muttered, as the stair finally ground to a halt. "Merlin, I wish I'd found that stupid spell…"

"Believe me, there's not a student in this school who hasn't looked for one," Draco said. Cara blinked and looked at him in surprise. He was _talking _to her, really talking to her? He sneered at her, lip curling. "Get yourself up, McDouglas, we can finally get off of this ridiculous stair."

So they were back to all that. Cara heaved a sigh, and stood up, shoving her wet hair out of her face. She wrinkled her nose in disgust as she tried wringing some water out of her skirt. 

"_Dehumidous_," and suddenly she was a lot dryer and warmer. Startled, Cara looked up at Draco, only to find him frowning up at the still invisible stairway. She opened her mouth to say something, she wasn't sure what, but shut it again when he glared at her. Hmm. 

"Stay close to the wall and don't look down," Draco ordered brusquely. "Follow right behind me." Cara's jaw dropped as he proceeded to pick up his bookbag and robe, and then lifted on foot and stepped up in to thin air. 

Draco had climbed several 'steps' before he turned and looked back at her. Cara hadn't moved a muscle. Uh-uh. She wasn't going up there. She'd fall and be smashed into a million pieces on the ground and have a tragic funeral and all her friends would be crying and vowing revenge on those lousy Ravenclaws…

"McDouglas!" Draco snapped at her. Cara gulped. "Move your feet and come on!"

Gripping her own bookbag and robe tightly, she slid one shaking foot forward. Her toe bumped something invisible and she very cautiously lifted her foot and set it on what felt like a step. And then she froze. 

"Well? Let's go," he was growling at her. 

"I… um…" she gulped, trying to make herself put her weight down on that invisible step. Spot danced briefly in front of her, and she shut her eyes to make them stop. She heard Draco give a string of profanities that normally would have had her opening her eyes in surprise. 

And then he grabbed her hand, and that DID jolt her eyes open. "Look, just follow me, ok?" he snarled. She stared up into his eyes, pale gray and perfectly serious. And not frightening at all. In fact, they made her feel… safe. 

He tugged on her hand. "Come on," he snapped. She swallowed hard and nodded. And took that first step. Don't look down, don't look down, don't look down, she chanted silently, keeping her eyes fixed on a spot between his shoulder blades as she was led slowly up the transparent stairs. At one point, she stumbled and Draco whirled and caught her with his other hand, eyes narrow and perhaps… worried? 

"Now is not the time for clumsiness, McDouglas," he snapped, before letting go with his spare hand and starting up again. 

It was a long climb, much longer than she liked but shorter than she'd thought. Although that might have been because she was so focused on the boy in front of her and the feeling of him holding her hand in his. He had strong hands, like his shoulders, she thought absently. There were little nicks and scars on his hand, she could feel them faintly against her own skin. His fingers were cool and firm around hers and she had the sensation that if she suddenly dropped like a stone, those fingers would lock into that iron grip she remembered from their first night of tutoring. 

And then Draco stepped through the doorway and they were standing on solid ground. "Oh, thank Merlin," Cara breathed, feeling all that panic and fear rush over her now that they were safe. Not being one to over analyze things, she went with her gut and dropped her bag and robe, and proceeded to throw herself against Draco.

"Thank you thank you thank you," she said into his chest, hugging him tightly. 

"Um," above her head, Draco made a rather uncomfortable sound. And his body was stiff against her, and yet she didn't think he was about to shove her off. "Let go, you fool," he finally said, still not moving. Cara smiled, suddenly very happy, and did as he asked.

"I thought we were _never_ going to get off of there!" she exclaimed, stepping back and picking up her bookbag and robe again. "I mean, that stupid bloody stair just wasn't moving, and then Peeves! I swear, I'm going to get that lousy poltergeist if it's the last thing I do. Oh, and before I forget," she whipped around and faced the open doorway, and pointed her wand. "_Horizontous_." A yellow cord whipped out of the end of her wand and attached itself to either side of the doorway, blocking it off. "That way no one falls to their death," she kept talking even as she stowed her wand back in her pocket. "I mean, I can just see me walking and not looking where I was going and finding myself standing in thin air and then panicking and taking a step the wrong way and…"

"McDouglas," Draco groaned, and Cara shut her mouth, realizing she just might be babbling. Not that she had a reason to babble. No sirree, not her. "Shut up."

"Yes. Well. Ok. Yeah, you're right. And I'm tired and I think I want to go to bed, so I'll just… go, and… see you later, I guess," she mumbled, embarrassed, and starting to turn away. And then that annoying little part of her that was always getting her in trouble had her pausing a few step later, and turning back around.

She hurried over to where Draco was just starting to head the other direction, presumably toward Slytherin, and reaching up, caught part of his sweater in her fist.

"What…" he snarled, before she planted her lips smack against his and pretty effectively shut him up. She wasn't terribly sure what she was doing, but when had that ever stopped her? 

It was a fast and not quite accurate kiss, maybe because it was her first time doing it, and when she let go of him, she was bright red. She could almost hear her skin steaming. "Thanks," she whispered, before turning again and this time dashing off for real. 

As she ran around the corner, she could almost feel his eyes boring holes in her back. It wasn't until she was standing in front of the Fat Lady that she slowed down.

The Fat Lady peered down at her sleepily. "You're out awfully late, dearie," she said. "Password?"

"Butter crumpets," Cara panted, and then stepped inside the common room as the painting swung open. Still breathing hard, she started for the dormitory stairs. She needed sleep, that was it. Lots of sleep.

**********

Draco was extremely distracted as he walked back to Slytherin. It was the long way around, thanks to the stair and the swamp, which meant he had a great deal of time to ponder what had just happened. 

One minute, the girl had been babbling, and then she'd been leaving, and then she'd been kissing him. One corner of his mouth curled up in an unbidden smirk at that. Hah. She'd kissed him. His male pride couldn't resist buffing its nails, even as the rest of him was still scratching its head in confusion.

Why on earth had she done that? Cara didn't like him, he was perfectly aware of that. No one did. He made sure of it. And yet she'd slept snuggled against him for several hours, gripped his hand like it was a lifeline as they'd climbed the stairs, hugged him and then shocked him into silence by kissing him. 

He licked his lips. It had been a fast and hasty thing, only catching half his lips as she'd yanked him down to her level, but he could still taste it. Soft, warm lips that had been unskilled but eager and leaving the faintest flavor of chocolate behind. If she hadn't caught him so off guard, he might have taken advantage of the situation and seen what else he could have gotten from her. After all, he'd saved her life tonight and gratitude was a powerful thing.

That thought made him frown for some reason. Gratitude. That was it, she was grateful. Some part of him was disgruntled at the thought, and that annoyed him. He was spending far too much time thinking about his little tutoring student. Just because she was pretty and lively and incredibly genuine in all her emotions… 

Draco gave a sharp shake of his head and scowled into the dark corridor. He was getting daft.

Wasting no more time, he slipped through the back door to Slytherin, and straight up into his dorm, wand in hand as usual. No one was getting the chance to curse him when his back was turned. He paused a moment to let the wards about his bed recognize him, and then slipped through the drawn curtains.

He settled into the warm darkness with a sigh, kicking off his shoes and stretching out. He closed his eyes. He was tired, and his body was starting to ache again from sleeping sitting on the landing. Cara's hands had soothed the ache last time, right now he would simply ignore the pain and try to sleep.

He was about ready to doze off when he realized that there was an envelope sticking from beneath his pillow, rustling just a bit as he shifted. Blinking, he yanked it from next to him and held it up. "_Lumos_," he said softly, and his wand cast a pale light around his enclosed bed. 

He studied the outside carefully, trying to determine who it was from. Not his mother, all the letters he'd received from her in the past had been clearly marked with the Malfoy crest. Not that she'd be sending him letters after the past summer.

Carefully, he cast the various hex-revealing charms he'd thought to dig up before he came back to school. The letter was clean. 

Draco stared another moment, and then cautiously opened the envelope. He wasn't sure what he was going to find, just the fact that the envelope was on his bed was a reason for concern. 

He pulled out a single sheet of paper and slowly unfolded it. He had a sick feeling in his stomach that he knew what it was. 

_Draco,_

_You can't hide from me. _

Your loving cousin 

Draco crumpled the letter in his fist, feeling an all-too familiar feeling of despair well up inside him. Damn Bellatrix. Even now, she wouldn't let him go.

He squeezed his eyes shut and took a deep breath. She was wrong, he told himself. He was safe here at Hogwarts, and by the time he saw her again, he'd be ready. Prepared. He took another deep breath and then pointed his wand at the parchment. "_Incendio_," he said softly and watched it burn and crumple into ash. 

Then he very deliberately closed his eyes again. It was time to sleep. He had work to do tomorrow, more than he'd thought if Bellatrix could get this close. 


	11. Reap What You Sow

My faithful reviewers: Enjoy this bit of fluff! 

MetroDweller – Fanfiction.com has gone crazy! I've gotten thirty copies of your review in the last few days. Lol. 

Everyone else: Review! Please!

Chapter 11

Cara woke up as an unpleasantly loud noise ripped across her eardrums.

"_WHERE WERE YOU????"_ Ginny shrieked even as she landed full-force on Cara's bed. 

Cara groaned and yanked her pillow over her head. Sleep. She needed more sleep.

It was yanked out of her hands and a glaring set of brown eyes, followed by a rats-nest of bright red hair, appeared in its place. "Well?" demanded Ginny, voice still shrill and grating for someone who'd gotten only a few hours sleep. "I waited up in the common room until nearly midnight. Harry had to wake me up and make me go to bed. I was downstairs asleep, dammit!"

Cara groaned. "You have awful bedhead," she said sleepily towards the ceiling.

Ginny just growled. Cara sighed. "I got caught on the stairs," she said. "I didn't get back until really late." And then she promptly, stupidly, revealingly blushed a bright fiery red as she remembered just WHY she'd taken so long to get back to Gryffindor. Oh dear. 

"You're blushing," Ginny said. She whipped out her wand, and Cara cringed. Oh, please don't hex me, not first thing in the morning, she mentally whimpered. But Ginny pointed the scary magic stick at the bed curtains instead. "_Aurus impervious_," she snapped. And then looked back at Cara. "Spill it," she said.

"Um," Cara started, trying to think of something good. A nice little lie. Maybe she was stuck in the trick step in the third corridor from the left of the tower? Nah, everyone knew it was there and they'd even put a glow-in-the-dark flashing neon pink sign next to it. 

"Don't you um me, young lady," Ginny said. This time Cara gulped as the scary magic stick _was_ pointed at her. "You were blushing. You got back to the tower very, very late." Ginny's eyes got wide, and her jaw dropped. "Oh my god! You were with a BOY!"

"No I wasn't!" Cara immediately protested. More like a really sexy boy, she thought, and blushed again. Crap, damn, double damn. Damn once for the thought, damn twice for the blush. 

"Ooo!" Ginny squealed. "Who was he? That cute fifth year from Hufflepuff? He's had his eye on you for weeks…"

"iwaswithdracomalfoy," Cara muttered under her breath. Hoping that Ginny wouldn't catch it. 

Unfortunately, the abrupt end of chatter from her best friend told her that her wish wasn't about to be fulfilled. "Did you just say 'Draco Malfoy'?" Ginny said. Very quietly, and very scarily. Cara nodded meekly, risking a glance at her friend. The sight wasn't reassuring. While Ginny might not have her 'mad' face on, which meant all parties should take several large steps backward and have a good shield spell ready, she DID have her 'blank' face on. That meant you had no freakin' clue what she was thinking, and your chances of figuring it out before she blew were slim to none.

And then that damn wand came up again. "Explain."

Cara was suddenly irritated, and that damn little voice in her head that made her do crazy things like, oh, say, kiss Draco Malfoy when he least expected it, had her reaching up and yanking the wand out of Ginny's hand. "Geeze, would you give it a rest?" she asked, not really bothering to hide the pissed off tone in her voice. "I'm your bloody friend. Don't point your wand at me like I'm some kind of enemy."

Ginny sat back, her 'blank' face now gone. "I… I'm sorry," she sighed. "I was just so _mad_, because I waited and waited, and I was worried when you didn't come. And then I wake up and you're right here safe!" She raised her hands and dropped them again. "You're right. No wands on friends." 

"Unless they're holding an unauthorized emergency chocolate supply raid," Cara corrected, one corner of her mouth quirking. 

Ginny smiled back, and then sighed. "Dammit, it's too early," she grumbled. "Why'd you have to wake me up, you bitch."

"Why you little…" Cara started, but Ginny was already pulling the covers back and sliding in next her. 

"Shut up and give me your extra pillow," her red-headed friend ordered. "And quit hogging the blankets. Some of us need our beauty sleep." Cara grumbled as they silently fought over pillows and blankets and getting comfy in the bed that was plenty big for two small-sized females. 

Finally, getting sleepy again, she heard Ginny speak up again. "Did you kiss him?" her friend yawned. 

Cara sighed, a little wistful. "Yeah," she said.

"Why?"

"Because he was cute. And he saved my life from falling off the stairs when stupid Ravenclaws made them invisible and the staircase moved."

There was silence. "Huh," Ginny grunted. "Ok." Then, "which Ravenclaws?"

Cara snuggled down further. "They'll be the ones losing their ears at lunch," she said sleepily. 

"I'll tell Colin to be ready with his camera," Ginny yawned again. "Good thing we don't have class this morning." There was more silence before she spoke softly again. "Do you like him, Cara?"

Cara took a long time before answering, letting sleep creep closer and closer. "I don't know," she finally said.

Ginny sighed, a sleepy sound. "Yeah," she said. "Just… be careful."

"Yeah," Cara murmured back.

"Wake me up for lunch."

"You wake me."

"Whatever."

"Bitch." And then Cara slipped into sleep.

**********

Draco was in the Room of Requirement. It was really quite a marvelous place. He'd trailed Potter and his little gang of 'Dumbledore's Army', as they'd called themselves last year, and realized that the room could be extremely useful. Particularly with his little situation this year.

"_Protego_!" he panted, diving out of the way. He winced as the bolt of light seared his right arm. Dammit, that hurt. "_Furniculous! Incisisious! Petrificus!_" he sent bolts back at the shadowy figure across the room as fast as he could, and slumped in relief when it finally dissolved. 

He sat and leaned his head back against the wall and breathed heavily. That was the fifth bout this morning, and he was starting to get tired. And worse, he was still afraid that he wouldn't be ready, wouldn't be fast enough. She was going to get him at some point, he thought wearily, and sometimes he didn't care.

But he'd woken this morning from a dream of soft, chocolate-flavored lips, and been driven to come here and practice. He didn't like the urge, or rather, didn't like the reason why. Bloody girl, he thought. Why'd she done something like that last night, kissing him? She was supposed to just stay frightened and away, like every other good Gryff. But no, the stupid girl had been singing and dancing, and then crying and clinging to him, and then bloody fell asleep on him. And then ended the evening by kissing him!

He growled in frustration, shoving a hand through his damp hair. Gods, he was a mess. Two weeks tutoring, and he'd lost all the icy façade he'd managed to build up over the last sixteen years. And, he wrinkled his nose, since there was no one to see, he needed a shower.

Heaving himself up, he started for the doorway. It was still early enough to get that shower, he thought. And then, lunch.

**********

Cara was sitting at lunch, not quite awake yet, when she saw them. Her eyes narrowed to slits and she nudged Ginny next to her. "There they are," she said.

Ginny immediately peered the wrong direction. "Where?"

Cara smirked. "Watch," she said, getting up. As she headed for the Ravenclaw table, she saw Ginny waving frantically at Colin. She smirked. Get ready, camera boy, she thought.

She sauntered over until she stood right behind the two third-years. They had their heads together, whispering frantically, and didn't notice her until she stood right behind her. She leaned down and said as soft as a breeze, "Hello, boys."

Two heads jerked around and smacked into each other. She smiled in satisfaction at the whack and subsequent howl. "Who're you?" said the one on the left, rubbing his head and scowling.

She beamed at them. "I'm the girl you trapped on the stairs last night," she said. The two looked at each other nervously. 

"Ah, riiiight…" the one on the right said. "Um, you're not mad, are you? Because it was just a joke…"

"A joke. Hmm…" she tapped one finger against her bottom lip. "A joke. Yes, I see how that could have been a joke." She started to laugh, quite gently. "Why, it's positively funny! Just imagine me standing there, watching the stairs vanish!"

The two looked at each other again, confusion in their faces. "Uh, good. You're not made, then." 

Cara waved her hand airily. "Mad? Me? Heavens, no. It was all _quite_ exciting. Really, I have to thank you." Casually, she pointed her wand ever so slightly towards the two. "Well, I should be going. Enjoy your lunch, boys," she said, and sauntered off. 

As she walked away, she started counting silently. _One… two… three… four… and five._ Right on cue, her extra-special-favorite-hex-known-only-to-Great-Uncle-Max took effect. Two screams rang out behind her, followed closely by a roar of laughter. Cara sighed in pleasure as she sat down again at the Gryffindor table. 

"Oh. My. God." Ginny had her head down on the table, she was laughing so hard. "You weren't kidding, no ears."

Cara buffed her nails casually. "Have I mentioned Great-Uncle Max before?" she murmured sweetly. "He's written a few books on creative hexes…"

Ginny's brother leaned over, grinning hugely. "Awesome, Cara. That was awesome." He turned back toward where Harry was still snickering. "Wouldn't Malfoy look great that way?"

At the mention of his name, Cara's eyes turned toward the Slytherin table. Her eyes skimmed over heads until she met a pair of surprisingly amused gray eyes. Her own eyes widened. Oh. My. Draco's face was relaxed, clearly approving of her little revenge. And unbelievably handsome, she thought a little dazedly. 

Uh-oh. She was in trouble, she thought, watching him turn away, a quirk still at the corner of his mouth. Deep trouble.

"Miss McDouglas!" Cara cringed at the sound of McGonagall's voice. Make that super deep trouble.

**********

Draco strode down the hallway, lips twitching still. So the little Gryff hadn't been exaggerating when she said the two pranksters would be loosing their ears. He wasn't sure he knew that particular spell, and briefly wondered where she'd found it.

She'd probably get detention for it, however, he thought, pulling it in the middle of the Great Hall with the entire school for an audience. A trait that definitely proved her lack of Slytherin-ness. _He_ would have chosen a nice, secret spot and hit the two when their backs were turned. Oh, he would have found some way of ensuring complete public humiliation, but crafty got you farther than blunt confrontation. 

He supposed that he should let the two off rather easy, now that Cara had had her fun with them. Draco suddenly caught his thoughts. Since when did she become 'Cara'? Probably since she kissed you last night, an annoying little voice in his head said.

Draco grumbled and tried shoving that little voice back down where it belonged. Why, in the last year and a half, did he have to grow a conscience? It was annoying, it got in the way of all sorts of things, and it gave him unpleasant feelings of guilt or duty. And dammit, it made him think things that sounded suspiciously like something Potter or one of his cronies would say.

He grumbled and stepped through the doorway of the Potions classroom, breathing in the faint fragrance of herbs and steam that always hung about the place. Ahh. He was early for class, and settled into his desk, relaxed since there was no one else about.

He had begun to spread out his things when Professor Snape came striding through the door. "Mr. Malfoy," the Potions Master said.

"Sir," Draco answered, looking up at him.

Snape paused in the front of the classroom and looked at him with narrowed eyes. "The Slytherin corridor fell victim to another ridiculous prank last night," he said. Draco inclined his head. "Have the culprits been suitably reprimanded?"

One corner of Draco's mouth refused to stay down. Ah, yes. "Sir, I believe the students responsible have been, ah, reprimanded by another party."

Snape nodded. "Very well." He vanished into his office without another word. Draco settled back to wait for his class and amuse himself with more images of earless Ravenclaws.


	12. Friends and Enemies

MetroDweller – hee hee.  I keep picturing two little boys slapping their hands where their ears should be and screaming like the kid from "Home Alone"…

Shahrezad1 – I'll let you in on a secret, Ginny's a bit a meddlesome friend.  (I know, big surprise, right?)  She'll have a bit of a role to play later…  

J Wish – Here's a bit more potion time, and yes, there'll be more to come!  Don't forget that sneaky little thing Draco's working on…  he'll need it later on.  Oops, don't want to say too much…

Everyone else:  Read!!  Review!!  Thank you!!!

Chapter 12

Cara was understandably nervous that night as she headed for the dungeons.  After all, the last time she'd been face to face with Draco, they'd been, well, kissing.  She coughed lightly.  Ok.  So she'd kissed him.  Big deal, right?

She resisted the urge to stop and beat her head against the stone wall.  Maybe it hadn't been the smartest thing to do, but at the time it had felt pretty darn good.  She'd like to see what a real kiss with him would be like.  

Bad Cara, she admonished herself.  Bad, bad.  No more thoughts like that.  

She slowed her steps to a halt and stared at the Potions classroom door.  Oh boy.  

**********

Draco was waiting, practically watching the clock as he sat in the dimly lit classroom.  He'd already checked his potion, and assured himself that the mixture was coming along nicely.  Professor Stone had breezed through on her way to some staff meeting, and she'd smiled at him and told him she was very impressed by his work so far.  

And now here he was, glaring at the clock as the second hand slowly ticked its way around the face, marking off time.  She was two minutes and thirty-seven seconds late.

Finally the door opened and the girl in question walked in.  Draco watched her, not saying anything.  Frankly, he was in the unfamiliar position of not knowing what to say.  What _was_ the proper protocol for talking to a girl who'd kissed you out of the blue the last time you'd seen her?

Cara set her bag down on the table next to him, and raised her eyes rather shyly, he thought.  For some reason, he felt like smiling.  "Hi," she said.

Draco was forced to restrain the bizarre impulse to smile back.  Instead, he inclined his head and kept watching her.  

She bit her lip and stared at him a moment.  Then she heaved a sigh.  "Ok, this is weird," she said.  Draco raised one eyebrow and kept watching her.  It was a rather interesting thing to do, he'd discovered.  She had a very expressive face.  He'd wager she was lousy at games of chance, she'd give away everything with those eyes and that mouth.  

Merlin, he was loosing it, he thought.

She dropped into a seat across from him, and studied him again.  "Draco, I'd like you to be my friend," she said.  Rather out of the blue, he thought.

"Your friend?" he echoed.  He had to admit, it didn't quite meld with the images that had plagued him for the entire span of last night.  

Cara nodded.  "Yeah.  I mean, you saved my life last night," she said seriously.  "And you looked out for me, when you didn't really have to.  And I saw you at lunch, laughing at me hexing those stupid Ravenclaws.  Ok, you weren't really laughing, more like smirking, and I suppose if I hadn't looked over, I wouldn't have really seen it, but…"

"McDouglas," he interrupted.  "Babbling."  Something she seemed to do on a regular basis in moments of stress.  Or nerves, perhaps.

Cara gulped a little.  "Right.  Sorry.  Anyway."  She took another deep breath.  "I'd like to be your friend," she finally said.  "I think…  I think if you weren't being mean and nasty to me, I think I'd like you a lot."

Draco studied the girl sitting across from him.  Small, slim, dark hair pulled back away from her face.  Dark eyes and fair skin, and a very mobile and expressive mouth.  "I don't have friends," he finally said.  And immediately scowled, wondering why on earth he'd said something so remotely stupid.

Cara tilted her head a little, those dark eyes fixed on him.  "You could have me," she said simply.

Draco scowled deeper.  Did she have a clue how that sounded?  And just what was he supposed to do with a 'friend', anyway?

"You don't have to think that I'll be bugging you or anything," she said.  "I…  just if, say, you're in the library and there's no empty tables, you could come work at mine.  Or if you got a particularly good grade in a class, you can tell me and I'll be impressed.  Or if you want some help with your project," she nodded toward his cauldron in the corner, "I could take notes or something."  She shrugged.  "Or if you ever just wanted someone to talk to."

Draco couldn't even wrap his mind around the concept.  A friend?  His previous experience with 'friends' was the likes of Crabbe and Goyle, two meatheads who did as they were told and followed on his every footstep because he had more power than them.  Or Pansy, who hung on his every word and tried to please him however she could in the hopes of getting something from him.  

"And just what would you want?" he asked, deeply distrustful.  People didn't just offer him friendship.  And he wouldn't have believed it if they had.

Cara blinked at him.  "What would I want?"  She sounded genuinely puzzled.  "Friends don't 'want' something, they're just…  there."

Draco snorted.  Sure they were.  "Enough wasted chatter, McDouglas," he said harshly.  "Get your things together and begin on the potion on page 97 of your text."  He rose and began to pull his Charms homework out of his bag.

Cara was still studying him with a puzzled frown, and Draco had to resist the urge to glare at her again.  Then she shrugged and got up.  As she was setting up her workspace, he noticed she was grinning to herself.  

"Something amusing, McDouglas?" he snapped.  

She flashed him a smile, that had the strange effect of making some part of him feel lighter.  "Nope," she said cheerfully.  And then smirked.  "Friend."

He resisted the urge to growl, and instead just glared.  "Medium flame, you dolt," he snapped instead.  "Not a roaring blaze."  She just grinned some more, and began to hum rather tunelessly.  It was that same annoying tune he'd heard out of her before.  Something about sunshine…

Draco gave a mental growl, and turned his attention to his Charms homework.  He was _not_ letting the little Gryffindor get under his skin.

**********

Cara was feeling pretty darn cheerful as she tidied up after her latest mess.  Ok, so she'd nearly singed off her eyebrows when she'd added the powdered graphorn too early.  The mixture had shot straight up toward the ceiling, and if it hadn't been for Draco's quick shield spell, she'd probably have lost more than her eyebrows.  Instead, there was just a new clean spot on the ceiling, where the grimy buildup from centuries of students cauldrons had been eaten away.  

She hummed again as she tucked her notes away.  _I'm walking on sunshine…_  it was starting to become some kind of theme song.  

Draco was grumbling something over where he was sitting, writing some kind of homework.  Charms, it looked like.  "All done," she announced.  And swung her bag up over her shoulder.  "I'm heading back to the dorm, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Don't forget your parchment," he said, voice cool and impersonal.  "Write out your mistakes, and for Merlin's sake, don't forget the graphorn."

She chuckled.  "I nearly lost my bloody face to it, I'm not about to forget it."  One pale eyebrow slid up, even though he didn't look at her.  She made a face at him.  "Ha ha.  Funny," she said.  And then paused a second.  What the hell, she decided.  He was a friend now, whether he liked it or not.  

She leaned over and quickly dropped a kiss on his cheek, causing him to jerk backwards a little.  Hah.  "See you," she said cheerfully and darted out of the room.

Outside in the hall, she blew out a breath.  Whew.  Her heart was pounding and her hands were shaking.  This 'friends' thing she'd come up with was going to be tough.  One, he didn't seem to be that enthusiastic about the whole thing, and it meant she'd have to ignore his mean little comments.  Two, she was having the new and unusual urge to do a tad bit more than kiss his cheek.  Not that it hadn't been a nice cheek, there'd been the faintest bit of roughness against her lips for that fleeting second she'd pressed them…

Down girl, she told herself, with a sigh.  Friends, remember?  She'd realized, standing outside the classroom door that evening, that it was what he deserved.  And probably needed.  After all, he was always so _alone_.  He didn't even have anyone to eat lunch with.  Never mind that she wanted to feel those well-muscled shoulders again, the boy needed a friend and by golly, that was what she was going to be.

She gave a determined nod, and headed up the steps toward Gryffindor tower, not before giving a wary glance about for pranksters.  She wasn't making _that_ mistake again.

**********

Draco was cursing himself for all kinds of an idiot as he followed Cara to Gryffindor, several steps back in the shadows.  He was just making sure she didn't fall victim to another idiotic prank, he told himself.  After all, he'd probably be blamed if she fell off another staircase.

She was walking quickly, still humming that ridiculous tune.  It was starting to get annoying, particularly since he had no idea what it was, beyond the 'sunshine' part.  Her hair was bouncing against the nape of her neck as she walked, and her legs were quick and slim as she hurried up the steps.  

What was he doing, looking at her legs?  Draco silently chastised himself.  Even if he _was_ the friend she'd offered to let him be, he shouldn't be looking at her legs.  At least, he didn't think he should.  He wasn't terribly certain about the protocol of being a friend.  

Cara finally reached the portrait guarding the entrance to Gryffindor Tower, and spoke the password.  Draco was tempted to move closer to hear it, but he didn't want to be spotted.  He didn't want Cara to get the wrong idea, after all, he'd merely followed her to be certain that he himself wouldn't get in trouble.  Not because he had any particular concern for her.  

The portrait closed, and Draco headed for the stairs once more.  He needed another hot shower to ease the tension in his shoulders.  Absently, he rolled one back, trying to loosen the muscle.  Really, the best thing had been when Cara had been using her fingers and digging into the muscle…

He gave a little growl.  Merlin, what was happening to him?  He scowled blackly.  He needed to get his mind off the little Gryffindor, and back to where it belonged, on Bellatrix and her schemes.  

Bleakly, he stared straight ahead as he walked, remembering.

Bellatrix laughed, a shrill and slightly crazed sound.  "You killed your own father," she taunted.  "Crucio!"

_Draco screamed as the curse hit him, unable to control the wild jerking of his body on the floor.  It hurt, oh gods, it hurt.  All the times he'd suffered through the curse, he never acclimated to it.  _

_She finally stopped and bent low.  "I'm going to teach you a thing or two before you pay," she whispered as he lay panting.  "The Dark Lord wants you dead.  But I'll have a little fun, first.  After all, you betrayed your own father, for that muggle-loving fool and his spy."  She kicked him in the ribs, the toe of her shoe catching him under the arm and breaking the skin.  Draco moaned, he could feel the blood starting to well, and he was too weak to fight back.  He should have been quicker, should have darted down the other corridor.  _

_"I'm going to be around every corner," she continued, voice gleeful.  "You'll always be wondering where I am, when I'll strike.  And you'll finally beg me to end it all."_

_"Fuck you," Draco finally managed to spit out.  Oh god, he hurt._

_Bellatrix just threw back her head and laughed.  "No, no, that was your father," she smirked.  "You're just a pathetic little boy."  She straightened up and started to saunter away, twirling her wand in her fingers.  "See you soon, cousin," her voice trailed behind her.  _

_Draco lay on the ground, nerves still twitching, blood leaking from the wound beneath his arm, body too weak to stand.  She was going to kill him, eventually.  _

If he could just make it until Hogwarts, he thought.  Forcing himself, he rolled over and slowly and painfully pulled himself to his feet.  Staggering a little, he headed for his rooms.  There were enough secret passages and wards there, he could be safe for a little while.  If he could just make it until he could get to Hogwarts, he might have a chance.  He didn't want to die, not now, not by Bellatrix.

Draco found himself staring blindly at the back door of Slytherin.  He shook off the memory.  Bellatrix had made it very clear that he wasn't safe, not even here at school.  He didn't know how she'd do it, but somehow…  He had to be on his guard.  Not distracted by a cute little Gryffindor.

Cute?  Bloody hell, Malfoy, he grumbled, pushing the door open and stepping inside.  You're really loosing it now.


	13. Without Price

MetroDweller – Yeah.  That "just friends" thing isn't going to last.  Heh heh.  

J Wish – Poor Draco.  He's going to have to figure out something soon, as you will see…  and I promise, it will include potions.

Shahrezad1 – hee hee.  Nice Star Wars moment.  And what would a romance be like, without just a leeeetle bit of confusion?  Not to worry, Draco's going to make a decision or two in the next few chapters…  look out folks, chapter 14 or 15 might get a little warmer…

Everyone else (pointing with a stern teacher-finger) – REVIEW!!

Chapter 13

Draco was sitting, comfortably ensconced at a table in the far corner of the library.  He'd spread out his books and parchment and no one had dared to disturb him.  He supposed he could do his homework in the Slytherin common room, but he'd have to be more alert, more aware of who was around and what they were doing.  In the library, he could relax a bit, knowing Madam Pince was watching them all with eagle eyes, just waiting for someone to break the silence of the library.

He pulled another open tome closer, and flipped, looking for the right goblin war.  Merlin, Binns assigned the most monotonous homework.  He had a sneaking suspicion the old ghost didn't read their papers, either, the last three feet he'd turned in on Grablock the Crusher and his victories over the giants of Northern Scotland had contained several deliberate errors.  He'd still gotten full marks.  

Draco sighed as he flexed his hand and kept copying.  He didn't know why he didn't just make up the whole bloody assignment.

Just then, there was a thump as someone set down their bookbag across from him.  Draco glared at his parchment before raising his eyes.  No one was supposed to be bothering him.  His intimidating stare was wasted as it angled right towards the girl just sitting down.

Cara shot him a sunny smile.  "History essay?" she asked in a whisper.  He glared harder.  What the devil did she think she was doing?  He was Draco Malfoy, and she was supposed to cower in fear, not pester him.  Instead of retreating, she just started rummaging through her own bag, pulling out ink and quill.  "I've got two feet for Charms, on banishing charms," she kept chattering in a soft voice.  "There's currently a large-scale exploding snap game going on in the common room, and I'm afraid my homework will get incinerated just as I finish."

"McDouglas," Draco finally broke down and muttered.  "Shut up."

Cara just shrugged and started to flip pages in her text.  Draco tried to concentrate on his essay again, but he was irritated.  She was intruding on his personal space.  He considered a quick and nasty hex to make her flee, but then decided it wasn't worth the effort.  Madam Pince would have in him in detention, probably with Filch, for a week, not to mention Professor Stone would mostly likely give him a disappointed look when he saw her next.  He sighed.  No hexes, then.

Cara glanced up at his sigh.  "Bored?" she whispered.  He raised one eyebrow and glanced down at his essay, unable to stop himself.  Bored by History of Magic?  She grinned.  "Yeah, dumb question," she murmured.  "Here, can you help me?"  She turned her book to face him.  "I found three different charms, but I can't find the fourth.  Flitwick said we needed to explain all four."

Draco just stared a moment, and she sat and waited.  Good lord, the girl was serious.  She was actually trying to be a _friend_.  She raised an eyebrow at him.  He shut his mouth and then looked down where she was pointing.  "_Diffusus objectus_," he muttered, and shoved the book back at her.  He didn't look at her face, but still caught the edge of the blinding smile she sent him.

"Thanks," she said softly, and started writing again.  He caught the barest hint of humming as she did, _not_ that 'sunshine' song, thank Merlin.  No, this time he actually thought he might know the melody.  La-la-la-la-la-la-la-la…  Beethoven, he thought.  The 'Ode to Joy' movement.

Draco sat back and started writing again, for some reason no longer bothered by the girl across the table.

**********

Cara hummed as she skipped into the Great Hall for lunch.  It had been two weeks since she'd announced to Draco she planned to be his friend, and all in all, things were going swimmingly.  Sure, he still said mean and nasty things during tutoring when she screwed up, but he had a glint of amusement in his eyes while he did.  It made it easier for her to shrug and grin and try again.  And she'd caught him in the library a few more times, and helped herself to the other side of his table.  

She'd been privately amused and something else she couldn't define by the rumors that had started to circulate.  Most of the school was apparently convinced that she was either under the _imperious_ curse, or that she was pathetically in love with Draco.  The fact that he scowled and was fairly reluctant to give any ground in public had convinced the majority of students that it was the latter.  Cara McDouglas, Love Slave, she thought with amusement, dropping in next to Ginny and reaching for the platter of fried chicken.  

"How was Arithmancy?" Ginny asked around a mouthful of chicken.  

Cara wrinkled her nose.  "Too many numbers," she said before taking a big bite.  "I swear, I'm dropping it next year.  It's just so dry."

"Don't say that in Hermione's hearing," Ginny mumbled.  "That girl thinks it's the greatest subject ever."

Cara rolled her eyes as she munched.  As she worked away at the drumstick, she caught sight of Draco coming into the Hall, and heading for the Slytherin table.  Cool, calm and with that faint air of menace he always seemed to have, she thought.  She swallowed and reached for her pumpkin juice.  Then she got an idea and grinned.  

"Hey, Gin, you got a spare piece of parchment on you?" she asked.  

Ginny raised an eyebrow.  "Yep, why?"

Cara chortled.  "Going to give a friend a surprise," she said.  She held out her hand.  "Gimme."  A few minutes later, she had a reasonable looking paper plane folded.  So one wing was noticeably longer than the other, that really didn't matter.  She hoped.  She tapped the paper wings and muttered the appropriate charms, hoping she was doing it right.  After all, Great-Uncle Max had showed her two years ago.  

Ginny was watching, chin propped on her hand and face fascinated as Cara finally lifted her wand and pointed it in the direction of the Slytherin table.  "_Aquiro Draco_," she said, and watched in delight as the little plane wobbled up into the air, and straight for the blonde head sitting alone.

Ginny's jaw dropped as she watched the plane leave.  "You're pranking Malfoy?" she said.  "Are you sure that's healthy?"

Cara grinned.  "I think I'll be ok," she said, and reached for more chicken.  This kind of fun always made her hungry.  "We're friends, you know."

Ginny raised an eyebrow.  "You sure?"  Cara rolled her eyes and chomped away.  This would be fun.

**********

Draco was calmly eating a biscuit, nicely slathered in butter, when a piece of folded paper came fluttering over towards him rather lopsidedly.  He watched with narrowed eyes as the object began to limp around his head.  Great.  Some bloody idiot thought they could prank him and get away with it.  

He waited a few moments, gauging the wretched thing's speed, before reaching up and snatching it out of the air.  He glowered as the paper struggled meekly in his hand.  "_Finite incantatem,_" he muttered, pulling out his wand.  The paper went stiff and he tucked his wand back in his pocket.

Draco made as if to simply toss the paper over his shoulder, before he noticed writing on one of the wings.  He tilted it to one side.  _Try the chicken_, it read.  His eyes narrowed.  What the…

Then he got it.  He looked up and over at the Gryffindor table, eyes searching out that particular dark head that had become far too familiar for his comfort.  Cara was munching on a piece of fried chicken, and as he watched she looked up and his way.  He glared at her, and she just grinned and wiggled her fingers at him.  He huffed out a breath of annoyance.  That girl was getting far too persistent, and worse, he was liking it.  

He turned his attention back to the object in his hand.  So it was ok to play a joke on a 'friend', was it?  He suddenly smiled, a sharp, satisfied look.  Then she surely wouldn't mind this…

**********

Cara was leaving the Great Hall, heading for Care of Magical Creatures when something zoomed past her.  "Eek!" she squeaked.  

Ginny, who was walking next to her, ducked as it came back.  "What the devil is that?" she asked as it zoomed by again.  

Cara ducked as whatever it was made another pass.  She squinted.  "Holy cow," she realized.  "I think that's my paper airplane."

"The one you sent at Malfoy?" Ginny asked.  People were starting to stop and stare.  Cara ducked again.  

"I think it is," she said, her heart doing a strange leap.  Weird.  

And then the plane came zooming at her one last time, and this time when she ducked, it didn't miss.  Instead, she felt the tip implant itself at the top of her ponytail.  "Wow," Ginny said, straightening up and staring.  "It nailed you."

Cara wrinkled her nose as she reached for the plane.  "Yeah, I guess he's a little bit better at it than I am," she said as she tried to pull it out.  "Umm," she grunted.  "Dammit, Ginny, it's stuck."

"Stuck?  Here, let me try," her friend said, reaching for the plane.  She tried to extract the plane, but nope, it seemed to have attached itself to Cara's head.  Cara glared as she thought she saw Ginny's lips twitching.  

"Don't laugh," she ordered.  "I mean it!"  

Ginny held up her hands, grinning.  "Me?  Never.  I wouldn't dream of it."  She cleared her throat.  "So how are we going to get it out?"

Cara opened her mouth and then winced.  "We're going to be late," she said.  "Dammit.  I'll make that jerk undo the spell tonight when I see him for tutoring."  After all, this couldn't be that bad, right?  They set off at a run for Hagrid's hut, the paper on Cara's head waving gently as they did.  

Four hours later, Cara was steaming.  People were laughing, and if she wanted the thing off her head any time soon, she'd have to use a razor.  Now the paper had flattened and was covering her entire head.  She scowled.  He'd messed with the hair.  He would have to pay.

**********

Draco was sitting, relaxed and anticipatory as he waited for Cara to arrive that evening.  He wondered if she'd gotten the paper off her head yet.  He smirked.  It was a pretty good Sticking Charm, he had to say.  He'd be most impressed if she had.

And then the door to the classroom slammed open and the girl in question stomped in.  "Draco Malfoy," she snarled.  "You get this thing off me, _right now_!"

Draco took one look at the girl glaring at him, hands on hips, and started to snicker.  He couldn't help it.  The paper had gotten flattened somehow until it drooped over one eye, covering the top of her entire head.

"Get it off!" she howled, stamping one foot.  He kept chuckling, but decided he'd had his fun, and sent the counter charm her way.  Cara proceeded to rip the paper off her head, and to his great amusement, throw it on the ground and stomp on it.  "You messed with my hair!" she snarled, and Draco instinctively ducked as her wand came out.  It was a reflex, but apparently he wasn't fast enough.

Draco looked down.  "You banished my socks?" he said.  He was rather bewildered by her choice of punishment.  

Her cheeks were red as she glared.  "You try walking around without them for a while and see if it's not irritating," she snapped, before swinging around and stomping out.  

Draco stared after her, mouth open as the door slammed shut behind her.  Then he looked down at his now bare ankles.  She'd banished the socks right off his feet.  Huh.  

His head whipped up and around as he caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and his wand was in his hand without thinking.  Professor Snape regarded him coolly from his office door.  "Problem, Mr. Malfoy?" his Head of House asked.

Draco shook his head, unobtrusively putting his wand back in his pocket.  "No sir," he said politely.

Snape raised one eyebrow.  "Then why is Miss McDouglas not here, working on her potions work?"

Draco felt the corners of his mouth twitch.  "She, ah, is a little annoyed at the moment and decided tonight would not be a productive session," he said smoothly.  "We've rescheduled for tomorrow."

Snape just regarded him for a long moment with those all-too penetrating eyes.  Then the Potion Master's gaze dropped down and Draco pulled his feet out of view a moment too later.  The eyebrow shot up again, and Snape drawled sarcastically, "Forget something this morning, Malfoy?"

Draco coughed.  "No, sir," he said.  "Miss McDouglas, ah, borrowed them."

He thought he saw an amused glitter in the older man's eyes.  "A true friend is beyond price, Mr. Malfoy," was all the other said as he started turning away.  "Do not waste it."

Draco stared thoughtfully after the professor.  He couldn't recall Snape having any friends, not before Professor Stone.  And now, she was about all he let that close.  He wondered if the Potion Master had had friends when he was in school, or if it had always been that way.  

Then he shook his head, and gathering his things stood and started for the classroom door.  He was all the way back to the common room before he realized that he was going to have a blister on one heel, thanks to his sock-less state.  But instead of scowling, he found himself grinning.  Apparently the girl _did_ know how to retaliate.  

His good mood carried him all the way to his dorm room, where he tossed his bookbag on his bed.  And then stilled.  Damnation.  

There on the pillow lay a letter, his name in a black scrawl.  His blood chilled.  He knew that hand.  He'd hoped, vainly, he knew, that since it had been more than two weeks, he wouldn't see it again.  That she'd given up.

In silence, he reached for the note.  Carefully, he slipped it open and unfolded the single sheet of paper.  

_Dear cousin,_

_What a pretty girl.  Maybe I should play with her as well._

_B_

His hands began to shake, whether with rage or fear, he wasn't sure.  It was deep and overwhelming, what ever it was.  He swallowed hard, and crumpled the note in one hand.  He was going to have to do something, and quickly.  And he didn't know what.


	14. Moonstone and Madness

Gentle Readers:  Here you are, a little heat!  Consider this a bribe to get all of you who are silent readers to review!

Chapter 14

Draco didn't see Cara again until the next evening, when she came waltzing in for their tutoring appointment.  "You're late, McDouglas," he said coldly as he stirred his own cauldron.  

She dropped her bag on the table.  "Yeah, I got tripped in the common room by Dennis Creevy, and Pavarati Patil, who happened to be standing there, accidentally dropped her pumpkin juice on me, which frankly I'd like to know where she got at this time of night because I could really use something cool to drink…"

"Babbling," he cut through, not even bothering to look at her.  He studied the silver gray liquid in his cauldron.  Perfect.  Just as it should.  He would leave a note for Professor Stone to examine it, but in the meantime…

"Oops.  Damn," she said, voice still cheerful as she moved around, beginning to set up her cauldron and lay out materials.  "Anyway, I had pumpkin juice all over me, and figured you wouldn't mind if I changed clothes before I came."

"Dreamless Sleep Potion," he said, ignoring her chatter and focusing still on what was in front of him.  "Don't forget to grind the moonstone very fine.  Write that down."  His fingers wrapped around the vial in his pocket.  If he was successful, it would take very little potion to do what he needed.  If not…  

There was rustling and clatter behind him as Cara started to work, humming again as she did.  La la la la la…  Ode to Joy again, he thought.  Damn her.

"Can't you manage to do anything quietly, you brainless twit," he snapped, still without looking at her.  "Be silent, or return to your dorm."

There was stock silence behind him, and he could almost feel the surprised eyes on the back of his head.  He bore it silently, however, pretending he did not notice.  He stirred twice, clockwise.  

The knife began cutting behind him again, quietly this time.  There was no humming.  Draco continued to watch his potion and study the liquid inside.  He stirred again, three minutes later.  Another few minutes, and the moment he wanted came.  He heard Cara's feet move toward the store cabinet at the other end of the room.  

Quickly slipping out the vial, he dipped out a spoonful of the liquid and filled the slender glass tube.  He capped it, and dropped it into his pocket.  He had a long night before him.  Her footsteps returned to her table and the knife began again.

Draco set the spoon he'd been using aside, and turned now to his table and the few books he'd piled on it.  Cara didn't know enough about potions to suspect anything, he was sure.  The titles could all be interpreted as something that he might use in his research project, not that she was aware of what it was.  

He settled down and flipped the first open.  Skimming down the table of contents, he finally risked glancing over at the quiet girl across from him.  He was hard pressed not to blink.  

Rather than her school uniform and robe, Cara was wearing some kind of muggle clothes.  Trousers of a rough blue fabric fit snugly, outlining hips and thigh, and a shirt of pale pink molded her upper body.  Molded very nicely, he thought, before dropping his eyes.  His heart was beating a little fast, as if he'd been running and just stopped.  He scowled at the page as he waited for it to settle.  Dammit, dammit, dammit, he did not need this, he thought.  

And she was his _friend_, he thought with a twist of his lips, flipping the page.  From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of her lifting the pestle and morter. "Grind very fine," he ordered in reminder.  He ignored her long glance at him, the question in her eyes.  He stared down at the page.  Nothing here.  

He skimmed his finger down the lists, trying to concentrate on the book and not the girl.  Since when had he become so aware of this ridiculous little Gryffindor?  Perhaps since she'd asked him who'd shoved a stick up his ass, he thought in black amusement.  No one had dared to speak to him in such a way, except perhaps Potter.  Potter didn't give a damn, either, he just looked him in the eye and silently met him toe to toe.  Even when he'd hated the other boy with every fiber of his being, he'd grudgingly admired that quality.

She was tipping the bowl toward her cauldron.  "Finer," he ordered without looking, and heard her huff of breath with great amusement.  He kept his face blank, however, and tried not to notice how she was pouting, her lips pursed in frustration.  Bloody hell, he was loosing it.  Bad enough he'd been a 'friend' the last few weeks, now he was rapidly realizing he spent far too much time lingering on certain parts of her anatomy.  He risked another glance at her muggle-clad form.  Breasts.  Thighs.  Lips.  The curve of her nape…

He gritted his teeth and focused his eyes on the page before him.  Nothing.  He flipped to the final page of the table of contents.  Nothing.  He picked up the second book and repeated the process, finally finding something that resembled what he sought on the third page.

He turned to the appropriate chapter.  _An infusion of foxglove_, he read silently, _can be added to most non-volatile potions, providing the consumer with a certain degree of immunity to pain in the stomach and torso._  That was well and good, but the Nerve-Deadening Potion, even when done correctly, was definitely volatile.  _When added to delicate potions, the results can be uncertain and unpredictable, ranging from no effect to violent side effects, including death.  In some cases, with potions of healing, foxglove has heightened the intended purpose of the original potion to the fifth degree.  These instances have been rare, however, and seem to occur only when the original potion was created with Pure Intent._

Hah.  Potions of Intent again, he thought.  He glanced at his cauldron.  The only question now was, had he brewed the potion properly?

His intent was pure, he supposed.  He needed the potion for his own protection, to give himself a fighting chance.  Did that count as pure?

_When added to delicate potions, the results can be uncertain and unpredictable, ranging from no effect to violent side effects, including death.  _He read that line again.  Death by his own hand, even accidentally, was preferable and certain to be less painful than death by Bellatrix.  Not with all the little games she'd been playing.

There was a clatter across from him, and he glanced up sharply.  Cara was glaring at her now broken pestle and sucking her thumb.  She'd cut it, he guessed, and then narrowed his eyes.

"Did you have moonstone on your finger before you stuck it in your mouth?" he demanded, straightening in his chair.

She stared at him, then glared.  "Shut up," she growled.

He was out of his chair then.  "Dammit, wench, did you?"  He was frantically trying to remember the antidote for moonstone poisoning as he rounded the corner.  His answer was in the widening of her eyes as she began to choke.

He cursed and leapt forward in time to catch her before she doubled over.  "Breath, Cara, dammit, breathe!" he ordered.  His fingers found her throat and felt the swelling under his fingertips.  He looked around frantically.  He needed…  

Ahah!  He spied the bottle of blackwater on the corner of the table.  One arm around her waist, he dragged her against him as he reached for it, flipping the stopper off with a flick of his thumb.  She was convulsing against him, her skin turning blue as she fought to breathe.  He was forced to hold her tightly against him as he pressed his free hand to her jaw, trying to get her lips open enough for the blackwater.  

"Swallow," he ordered, absolutely terrified this wasn't going to work.  He pressed the bottle to her lips.  "Swallow!"  She choked and sputtered some of the liquid back out, but to his relief, he saw that she'd swallowed some of it.  He held her tightly still, tremors still traveling through her as the blue tint began to recede.  She gave a wheezing gasp, hauling in a deep breath.  One of her hands came up to clutch at the front of his sweater as she fought to get her breath back.  

"Breathe," he said, feeling a little weak now.  "Just breathe."  Carefully he set the bottle of blackwater on the table.  She was leaning heavily against him.  

"Merlin," she whispered in a rasping voice, still breathing jerky and rough.  She sagged against him a bit more.  

Draco glanced about, and decided he'd do better making sure she didn't fall if they were sitting.  Keeping a firm grip on her, partly for his sake as well as hers, he lowered them until they were sitting on the floor, his back against the wall.  "That was stupid," he said harshly, even as he tightened his grip on her.  Now that she was starting to sound normal again, he found his own limbs wanted to go weak, and a furious anger flooding his mind.  What was this feeling? he wondered, locking his muscles against the despised reaction.  

Cara sat nearly in his lap, leaning heavily against him and simply breathed in and out.  Her weight was warm and soft against him and certain dark thoughts that had trailed around the edges of his memory forced their way toward the front of his mind.  She'd nearly killed herself, because of being careless.  

"You brainless twit," he said, voice tight and cold.  "You could have killed yourself."

He felt her sigh as well as heard it.  "Thanks," her voice was whisper-soft and scratchy.  

He still felt that helpless anger at the sound.  He had no control over it, no tangible reason for it.  "I should turn you over my knee and beat it into you," he snarled, hauling her tighter against him.  

Her hand tightened in his sweater.  "I'm ok," she said softly.  

He snarled something foul, and then jerked as he felt her fingers creep up to his face.  She touched her fingertips to his face, and he stared down at her.  "I'm ok," she said again, looking up.  Her eyes were wide and dark and perfectly serious.

He still felt that rage racing through him, and he was struggling to contain it.  "You could have died," he said harshly.

Her fingertips still rested against his cheek, and she gave him a tiny smile.  "You saved me.  Again," she said simply.

The feel of that hand against his face, her body pressed against his, and the fact that she seemed to accept it without qualm all seemed to swirl into a violent mix with that helpless rage in his blood.  He made the quick, final decision.  Enough.

"Damn you," he snarled, and bent his head.

**********

Cara had been looking up from where she rested against Draco's chest, still catching her breath as she listened to the comforting sound of his beating heart.  She'd tried to soothe the anger and worry that she was sure he hadn't even realized was there, and then suddenly found herself with his mouth sealed over hers.

Lips, hot, hard and furious, burned into hers. It made her dizzy and she gasped against that stern mouth.  That small weakness was ruthlessly seized and she found herself besieged, surrounded, overwhelmed as his mouth plundered and destroyed hers.  She'd never been kissed, not properly, not other than she clumsy kiss she'd pressed on this very boy before, and now she found her mind had fled and her hands clutched at his shoulders.  She was helpless, drowning and utterly mad.

And then he pulled back, one hand buried in her hair, pulling her head back almost painfully.  She stared, bewildered, up into molten silver eyes, narrowed to mere slivers in that sharply handsome face.  "Well?" he demanded.

She had no clue what he was asking, but every nerve ending in her body was dancing the cha-cha, and she didn't think her mind was going to function properly for the next few days.  She reached up one hand and curled it around the back of his neck and tugged.

His eyes flashed and then his mouth was on hers again, hungry and demanding again.  And this time, she met him, just as hungry for something she didn't understand, and not having a clue what she was doing.  His lips opened over hers, and she gasped again as the tip of his tongue traced the seam of hers.  That clever tongue slipped past them and inside, darting in and out to taste and plunder, sending her farther and farther into a daze of bewildering pleasure.

And then he was gone, shoving away and striding to the other side of the room to pace.  She stared at him, even as her fingers touched her lips.  Had that really just happened?

He whirled and glared at her.  "Get your things," he snarled.  She stared blankly at him.  "Now!"

A bit bewildered, she climbed slowly to her feet, knees still shaky.  He was there, with a hand under her elbow, and she looked up at him.  

He dropped her arm.  "Get your things," he growled again, face unreadable.  Cara wished for one clear moment that she could know what was going on in that clever, handsome head of his.  

With still trembling hands, she slipped her notes back into her bag.  As she went to reach for the bag, it was taken from her hands, and she was jerked unceremoniously toward the classroom door.  "Move," she was ordered, and found herself being towed out the door and down the hallway.

All the way back to Gryffindor Tower, she stared at the back of his head, the questions swirling in her mind, far too many to sort through and answer.  His grip on her hand was hard and unyielding, and sent hot tingles through her arm.  

And then he was jerking to a stop a few yards from the portrait and whirling on her with that unreadable face.  She took a step back, trying to stand and look him in the eyes and found her back against the wall.  

He bent until his eyes were burning into hers and said in a soft, harsh voice, "We're not friends any longer."  And then pressed another ruthless kiss on her, leaving her head whirling, before letting her go and disappearing down the hall.

Cara leaned against the wall and tried to breathe.  She lifted her hands and found them shaking.  

"My, my, now that's what I call a kiss," came a voice, and she jerked her head up to stare at the Fat Lady.  Her mouth opened and closed, and the painted woman shook her head kindly.  "You better tidy your hair, dearie, before you go in."

Cara took a deep breath.  "Thanks," she said, a little shakily, before she reached down to pick up her bag.  She smoothed a hand over her hair, before taking another deep breath.  Did she have a lot to think about.  "Butter crumpets," she said, and then stepped inside.


	15. After The Kiss

Chapter 15

Draco strode down the dark hallways, heat and anger and something unknown pulsing through his veins.  The die had been cast, he was trapped into playing this hand now.  He bared his teeth in a silently vicious snarl as he made his way toward the Slytherin common room.  

Enough with 'friends', he thought, that odd anger still in him.  Cara was his, now.  And he would have to find a way to keep her out of Bellatrix's games.  He dropped one hand to the vial in his pocket.  The common room would be crowded; he'd have to work in the cover of his bed hangings.  

He thought again of the taste of her lips opening under his, and could barely taste that faint flavor of chocolate.  His mouth curved again, a little less cruelly.  She didn't know how to kiss, and he was looking forward to teaching her.  

Of course, all this might not have happened if that little twit had kept her hands out of her mouth and away from the moonstone, he grumbled even as his anger died a little more.  Instead, some of that fear that had washed over him back in the dungeon classroom surfaced.  She could have died in front of him, he thought, fingertips going cold.  And dammit, he would have cared.  

Bellatrix wouldn't.  Draco set his teeth and reined in his wandering thoughts.  He had work to do, work for two people now.  Cara was a target, by his dear cousin's own hand.  

Briefly, he thought of his beautiful, cold mother, still comfortably ensconced in Malfoy Manor.  She hadn't lifted a finger to help him this summer, she wouldn't help now.  Not after his part in his father's death.  She was content to sit back and let someone else do all the dirty work.  

He stepped through the portal and silently made his way across the nearly full common room.  Eyes slid away from him and backs turned, and that was how he wanted it.  He narrowed his eyes as he spotted Crabbe on the other side of the room, appearing to be buried in homework.  How was Bellatrix getting her nasty little notes in?  Was a dorm mate in on her little plan?

Briefly he considered and then discarded the boys in his room.  Imbeciles, all of them.  The wards he had around his bed were too strong for a mere student to slip through, or they would have already done it.  No, Bellatrix had to have something special going.  Perhaps that house elf that had come from the Black family?  The wretched thing had attached itself to his mother; Draco could see her handing it over to Bellatrix.  

He entered his room, and set his bag on the foot of his bed.  He bent and rummaged through his trunk, finally finding the store of slightly odd potions ingredients.  He should have an infusion of foxglove in here, he thought. He located the slim gold vial, and set the others back in his trunk.  He made sure his wards and safeguards were all in place, and then settled on his bed and drew the curtains tight.  

"_Lumos_," he said, and then pointed his now-lit wand at the curtains.  "_Aurus impervious_."  He had included Silencing Charms when he had set up his wards, but it never hurt to add another layer.

Carefully, he unscrewed the top of the foxglove vial.  With his free hand, he took out the vial of Nerve-Deadening potion and flicked the stopper out with his thumb.  He gazed at the silvery liquid in silence.  This was his hope, he thought.  With this, if it worked, he might be able to buy himself enough time, enough surprise for one chance.

Carefully, he tipped three drops of foxglove into the silver liquid.  The mixture swirled and then returned to its original state.  Carefully, he maneuvered the stopper back into place, and then screwed the top back on the foxglove.  He really had no idea how much to use, he though, studying his new potion, but one thing he'd learned from watching Professor Stone was to begin small.  Too little was generally safer than too much.

Getting up, he packed away both vials into his trunk, before settling back onto his bed.  He released a sigh, one that seemed to have been building for a while as he stared up at the ceiling.  His shoulder was aching.  He should really get up and take a hot shower.  

Instead he lay still and thought about kissing Cara again.  Merlin, he was soft, spending this much time on a girl.  A Gryffindor, no less.  He rubbed the bridge of his nose, where a headache was starting to form.  Why did his interest have to fall on one of them?  Why did his interest have to become fixed at all?

Unbidden, the Potion Master's words from the day before flashed into his memory.

_"A true friend is beyond price, Mr. Malfoy," was all the other said as he started turning away.  "Do not waste it."_

He smiled a little grimly as he forced his body up off the bed and toward the bathroom.  A friend?  He wasn't sure that was quite what he had in mind.

**********

Cara walked into the noise, light and laughter of the bustling common room and barely managed to even blink.  She was actually pretty impressed she was putting one foot in front of the other, giving how much her mind was still reeling from that last delectable, overwhelming kiss.

She spotted Ginny sitting on one of the couches, next to Harry as he appeared to be playing chess with her brother.  If the glare coming from the black-haired boy was any indication, he wasn't having any more luck than he normally did.  Her feet carried her over to where the game was taking place, weaving in between the groups of other students.

Ginny glanced up as she came over.  "Hey, Cara, back already?" she asked, eyes going right back to the board.  "You're just in time.  This is hilarious.  Harry's pieces are _so_ mad at him, ever since they won with you playing…"

Harry scowled deeper.  "You're not helping," he told Ginny, poking her in the ribs.  Ginny just snickered and batted his hand away.  

"My lady!" the tiny white king cried out from the board, apparently having spotted Cara.  "I prithee, save us from this most gruesome fate, at the hands of this feeble-minded jester…"

"Oi!" Harry objected with a scowl.  "If she was playing Ron, she'd loose too!"  On the other side of the board, the black queen stuck out her tongue at her counterpart.

"Umm, Gin?" Cara said, before a small war could break out on the board.  "You got a minute?"

"Yeah, sure, what's up?" Ginny said, finally looking back up with something resembling attention.  Then her eyes sharpened.  "Oh my," slipped out before she snapped her mouth shut.  "Right then, good luck, Harry, as always you'll need it, I'm off to bed."

"Hey, where's the fire?" Ron was protesting as Ginny headed for the dorm stairs, Cara trailing behind her.  Cara glanced back to find that Ron was muttering something to Hermione, who'd come over a moment before, and that Harry's eyes were fixed curiously and rather unnervingly on her.  For a second that emerald gaze seemed to see far too much, and it sharpened.  She felt a throb of a headache begin.  And then he blinked and gave her a faint, somewhat sympathetic smile and turned back to his friends.

Cara turned back and followed Ginny up to their room.  Her friend was already waiting on her bed.  Cara carefully set her bag on the end of the bed, and then crawled up until she was sitting next to Ginny, leaning back against the headboard.  Ginny flicked her wand, shutting the bed curtains.  "_Aurus impervious_," she said.  

Cara studied her hands intently, not really sure what to say.  Ginny's voice broke into her thoughts.  "First things," she said gently.  "Are you hurt?"

"Huh? No," Cara said quickly.  "I mean, no.  Well, there was that thing with the moonstone, but he gave me the antidote and I'm ok now, just my throat's a little scratchy but really I feel fine and…"

"Cara," Ginny broke in.  "Malfoy gave you moonstone?"  

Cara snapped her head up, startled.  "No!  I was grinding it, and broke my pestle, and cut my finger and there was moonstone on it and I didn't know and I was sucking the cut and then I got…"

Ginny stopped her by holding up her hand.  "Ok.  So Malfoy saw you'd accidentally swallowed moonstone, and gave you blackwater?"  Cara nodded, and then pressed her lips together.  And then…  she thought.

"Ok," said Ginny, studying her, clearly thinking out loud.  "So Malfoy saves your life again tonight."  Cara nodded again.  "And then…  Oh my god.  He kissed you, didn't he?"  Her friend's eyes were huge and wide and Cara swallowed hard.  

"Yes," she said.  

Ginny just stared at her, mouth open for a moment before she snapped it shut.  "I… Wow.  He did?"  Cara nodded again.  "Really?  He did, Draco Malfoy kissed you?"

Cara's brows drew together.  "What, am I that unkissable?" she glared.

Ginny rolled her eyes.  "Come on, you know that's not true," she said.  "But this is Malfoy.  He has no friends.  He's mean and doesn't like people and _hates_ Gryffindors.  And…  he kissed you?"

"Three times," Cara blurted.  

"Wow."  Ginny just sat there.  "Well…  I mean…  what's it mean?"

Cara heaved a sigh.  "I was kind of hoping you'd know," she mumbled.  

"Well," Ginny seemed to be thinking.  "Did he say anything?"

_"We're not friends any longer."_  She blew out a breath.  "Yeah," she said.  "And then he kissed me again."

She could almost see the steam coming out of Ginny's ears as the wheels turned.  "I almost can't believe I'm saying this," her friend finally said.  "But…  I think he might like you."  Her face flushed again.  Some part of her had come to that conclusion as well.  "I guess the question is, how do you feel about him?  Because if you don't like him, Malfoy's going to be tough to make back down."

She got a dizzying memory of those kisses, and swallowed hard.  "I really liked being kissed," she said softly.  

"Then I guess that's that," Ginny said.  She reached over and picked up Cara's hand.  "Just promise me, you'll be careful, ok?  And tell me if anything, anything at all, ever happens."

Cara squeezed her hand.  "I promise," she said.  

I'm going to be kissing Draco Malfoy, she thought dizzily.  Because I…  _like_ him.  Merlin, was life about to get weird.

**********

The next morning Cara was very nervous as she dressed for the day.  She'd combed her hair five different times, before Diana had finally shoved her away from the mirror, complaining that she was hogging it.  She'd packed and repacked her back for the morning, each time forgetting something else she needed, until Ginny finally grabbed her by the arm and dragged her down to breakfast.  

"You've got to face him sometime," her friend had muttered as she'd been bodily hauled down to the Great Hall.

But she wasn't ready, she thought frantically.  She didn't know what to say or do and she'd end up being really weird and probably screwing up everything and…

And then she bumped into someone as Ginny shoved her through the open doors of the Great Hall.  Strong hands caught and steadied her, and she looked straight up into cool gray eyes.  Dammit.

"Forget how to walk, McDouglas?" he drawled as he set her back on her feet.  His face was smooth and emotionless, a perfect mask.  Except…  she looked deeper into those eyes.  Except for one little spark in those silvery depths.

And that little spark cleared up all her confusion, and Cara gave him a brilliant smile.  "Why, I was completely overwhelmed by your very presence," she grinned.  Stretching up on her toes, she pecked his cheek.  "How lovely to see you this morning, Mr. Malfoy."

One pale eyebrow shot up, and she was subjected to a thorough examination.  Finally, finally, Cara conscious that a good number of eyes were on them the entire time, one corner of his mouth tilted just the slightest bit.  "Likewise," he murmured, too soft to be heard by anyone but her.  Cara glowed as he then settled one hand on the back of her neck, a rather propriety gesture, she thought with a funny feeling in her chest, and gave her a little push toward the Gryffindor table before turning and heading for the Slytherin table.

Ginny was grinning madly as Cara dropped down beside her, completely winded for some reason.  Diana was staring, eyes wide as saucers.  "I…  you… he…" her dormmate sputtered.

Ginny grinned and handed Diana a cinnamon roll.  "You might need the sugar," she suggested.  Cara helped herself to a particularly drippy one.  

Harry leaned down the table.  "Alright there, Cara?" he asked quietly.

Cara looked up and flashed him a brilliant smile, before looking over at the Slytherin table.  Draco was sitting, completely relaxed, ignoring everyone else around him, his eyes on her.  She blushed and smiled at him, before looking back at Harry.  "Never better," she said.  And took a huge bite.


	16. First Cold Whispers

Whee!  Look at all my reviews!  My weekend is made…

MetroDweller – Mr. Cool is going to start loosing it….  

Shahrezad1 – mmm… cookies…  I think it's time to throw a little trouble into this romantic plot, don't you?

Amidala and Sailor Pearl – Thanks for reading!  I hope you still keep liking Draco…  I don't usually like blondes, but there's just something about bad boys, isn't there?  *grin*

Chapter 16

Cara was hurrying down the hallway, a step and a half behind Ginny and Diana, muttering foul things under her breath about stupid Diana and how she never remembered her stupid homework for stupid Charms, when all of a sudden a hand shot out from behind a gargoyle and yanked her off her feet.

Her startled "eep!" was cut off by a firm pair of lips sealing over hers, and quickly turned into a sigh as she sank into what was already a wonderfully familiar feeling.  Ye gods, she could get used to this, so easily…

"Cara?" came Diana's confused voice.  A moment later, the kiss ended and she found herself looking up into narrow gray eyes.  She stared up for a dizzying moment, it just the two of them in that dark corner…  And then she smiled, unable to stop it.  That seemed to be what he was waiting for, because another short, hard kiss was dropped on her lips, and she was pushed back out into the light.

"Cara?" said Diana, halfway down the hall.  "Where were you?  We're late!"

Cara licked her lips as she started to hurry again.  "I'm coming," she called.  She couldn't resist a glance back, and her lips curved again as she spied a fair head moving smoothly and silently the other direction.

Diana was tapping her toe, and they started jogging together.  "Um, was that Malfoy?" her friend finally asked.

Cara smiled, still tasting that kiss.  "No, it was Draco," she said.

**********

Draco was arm-deep in dusty tomes, ensconced at his far corner table in the library.  He was attempting to find the extremely-bloody-obscure information he needed to finish his Defense assignment.  He had the feeling that the volume he needed was currently in the possession of also-bloody-annoying Granger.  She had this tendency to get to the books before he did.  

He grumbled mentally as he bent over another thousand-page volume about vampires in Eastern Europe.  At least Granger returned them promptly and with plenty of time to allow him to complete his homework.  Still, just once, he'd like to have the satisfaction of beating that girl to the perfect book.

He flipped a page and glared at the table of contents.  Out of the blue, two arms slid around his neck, a soft, warm body pressed against his back, and two familiar lips pressed against his cheek.  He froze, it taking a beat for him to absorb the still-peculiarly-familiar scent of her, before he realized who it was.

"Hi," Cara said, as she let him go and slid into a chair across from him.  "What are you working on?"  

Draco just stared across the table at her, somewhat bewildered.  Sure, they had some sort of a…  relationship, he guessed, but still…  it was odd, this seeing her.  Her seeking him out.

She pulled out parchment and quill, and glanced up at him with a smile.  Something warm twisted inside him.  He could get used to that, her smiling at him.  It wasn't something he was accustomed to, and he was finding himself greedy for those beaming looks.

"Defense," he finally answered, still watching her.

She wrinkled her nose, a rather oddly attractive thing to do, he thought.  "Oh, it's that vampire essay, isn't it?" she asked, settling her ink bottle.  "All the sixth years in Gryffindor are muttering foul things about Professor Weasley.  Even Hermione, and usually she never says bad things about a teacher."  Draco resisted a smirk at the thought of the normally unflappable Granger fretting over this blasted essay.

He watched her shuffle a stack of notes, making a few marks on some of them.  She started to write.  "What are you working on?" he finally asked.  It felt awkward, making conversation.  Talking.  It wasn't something he was accustomed to.

She gave him a brilliant smile, one of those smiles that he was starting to crave on a regular basis.  "Charms," she said.  "Professor Flitwick said we could do extra credit, if we wanted, if we researched the origins and common uses of Summoning Charms."

He raised one eyebrow.  "You need extra credit in Charms?"  He thought he remembered her yelling at him, back when they'd first started working together, that she was top marks in Charms and Defense.

She rolled her eyes.  "No, you jerk," she said without heat.  "I like Charms."

"Hmm," was all he said.  She shot him a mock glare, the corners of her mouth twitching even as she bent back to her homework.  He watched her still, eyes taking in the curve of her cheek, the way her hair fell over her shoulder and how her hand moved smoothly across the page.  

She glanced up, and saw him watching her, and blushed a bright, rosy red.  The corner of his mouth tilted up as he held her eyes with his, and her blush deepened.  He could get used to that, too.  For some reason, he liked seeing that hot color wash over her cheeks.  And it took so little to do, to…

He finally dropped his gaze back down to his paper and started to write again, but that slight curve to his mouth refused to leave, despite his best efforts.  He felt her eyes lingering on him, and it warmed something inside, something that usually lay cool and still.  Then she bent over her own work again.  

He…  liked her, he realized.  Liked spending time around her, even when he wasn't savoring another of those drugging kisses.  How odd.  

**********

A week later, Cara was comfortably ensconced at breakfast, rather blah bowl of oatmeal in hand.  She poked at it with a frown.  "Where's the brown sugar?" she asked Ginny.

Ginny was currently making some kind of sculpture out of her own oatmeal.  "I used it for the dirt," she said, and pointed to a blob of what used to be lovely, flavorful brown sugar.  "See?  That's the fields in the farm.  And those raisins are the cows." 

Cara scowled at the waste of perfectly good sugar.  "What's the blob in the middle, then?"

Ginny tilted her head and frowned.  "It's supposed to be the barn, although I think it came out much more like a house."

Her brother, sitting next to her, snorted.  "More like a hill," Ron mumbled, managing to spew bacon crumbs everywhere.  Cara glared at him, still sore that he'd managed to beat them all to the bacon.  No, she was stuck with the blah, boring gloop in her bowl.

Just then the mail arrived, as it did every morning, to the sound of softly beating wings as owls soared overhead.  Cara didn't really pay any attention, she wasn't really expecting anything from home, and no one else ever sent her any mail.  Consequently, when a plain black envelope dropped into her pumpkin juice, she jumped.

Ginny paused in her adding to her work of art to glance at her curiously.  "What's that?" she asked, as Cara fished it out gingerly and attempted to dry the letter.  

Cara glanced at the envelope.  No return address.  "I dunno," she said, definitely curious.  It was one of her faults, that darned curiosity.  It was how she'd fallen off the kitchen roof when she was four, because she'd been curious where the smoke from the stove was going.  

She slit the envelope open with a table knife, and pulled out a single, plain sheet of paper, also black.  She unfolded it to find a very short note, in a plain hand, written in stark white lettering.  

_Cara,_

_Tell my dear cousin I'll be seeing him soon._

_B_

"So?" Ginny asked, adding to her 'barn'.  

Cara frowned.  What was this, a joke?  "Hey Ron," she asked Ginny's brother.  "You're not trying to prank me for hanging out with Draco, still?"  Ron had been more than a little upset to find out his sister's best friend was, well, 'involved' with Draco Malfoy.  It had taken Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and a lot of threats about his ears from Cara herself to calm him down.

Ron shook his head, mercifully not speaking through his mouthful of oatmeal.  Ginny held out her hand.  "Lemme see," she asked, and Cara handed her the letter.  Ginny frowned as she read it.  "Who's the cousin?" she asked.

"I dunno," Cara said.  Maybe someone else in school was playing a prank.  Ron leaned over to read the letter, and Harry, sitting a few seats down, craned his neck to see.  Cara held out her hand and Ron handed the letter back.  "Maybe Draco'll have an idea," she said, glancing over to the Slytherin table.  

As she folded the letter and put it back in the envelope again, she caught sight of Harry frowning a little, and glanced at him curiously.  His eyes caught hers, brilliant green, and for a moment her head began to ache.  And then he frowned a bit, and looked back down at his own bowl of gray gloop.  

Cara shrugged off the uneasy feeling that had settled in the pit of her stomach as she tucked the letter in her pocket.  The head boy and girl were making rounds of the table, and handing the prefects announcements.  Ginny leaned over and peered over her brother's arm as he read.  "So?" Ginny asked, trying to see.

Ron nudged her away.  "Hogsmead visit next weekend," he said, giving her an irritated.  

Ginny grinned.  "Excellent.  I need more sugar quills."  Cara grinned as well.  Maybe she could talk Draco into going with her and making it a… a date?

On that thought, she abandoned her unappetizing breakfast and instead headed for the stairs.  She'd catch Draco later that evening and see what he thought.  The letter in her pocket crinkled as she walked, and she reminded herself to show it to him later.  After all, he was a pretty smart guy, maybe he'd have an idea about who sent it.

**********

Draco was waiting on Cara in the Potions room that evening, leisurly examining his Nerve-Deadening Potion.  Professor Stone had pronounced it excellent, and suggested he try adapting it to use on different animals.  It would require deciphering what the proper dosage was for each creature, and the amount of magic in the creature would affect the potion as well.  It was an interesting challenge, and one that fell along the same lines as his own private experiment.

He'd tested his vial this afternoon, dropping a few drops on his arm and waiting for a result.  The skin had gone numb, and had stayed that way even when he'd stuck a pin in his flesh.  Of course, it had worn off far too quickly, leaving him to decided to increase the amount of foxglove in the potion.  

He glanced up as the classroom door opened and Cara came sailing in, looking cheerful and bright and a little on the messy side.  He resisted the urge to smirk.  He wondered if she'd run into a dirt pile, given the streaks on her cheek and in her hair.  

"Ooh," she exclaimed, as she tossed her bookbag down  "Did you know that there's an enchanted suit of armor guarding the shortcut from the Astronomy Tower now?"  

Draco raised an eyebrow.  "No," he said.

She grimaced.  "I had a little run-in," she said, and wiped at her cheek, completely missing the dust.  

Draco couldn't resist.  It was too good an opportunity.  "Here, you're missing it completely," he said smoothly, and reached out one hand.  Using the pad of his thumb, he slowly and deliberately wiped the dust away, letting his fingertips trail after, across the soft, smooth skin.  The cheek under his hand warmed as she blushed, just as he'd intended.  He smirked again, and shifting his hand around the back of her neck, couldn't resist taking the opportunity for one richly satisfying kiss.  

Letting her go a few moments later, he enjoyed the sight of soft, dazed eyes before somewhat reluctantly stepping back.  "Tonight you need to finish your regeneration potion," he said, settling back into his seat.  "And for Merlin's sake, don't forget the ground mace this time."

She grimaced at him, even while her eyes were still soft.  "Shut up," she said.  "It's not like I meant to turn purple."

He raised one skeptical eyebrow, enjoying how she stuck her tongue out at him.  It made him think of other, more pleasurably things, however, and so he busied himself with his Herbology homework.  

He listened almost absently as Cara moved about, humming off key as she normally did.  "Oh!" she exclaimed a few minutes later.  "I almost forgot, did you hear there's going to be a Hogsmead visit in a week?"

Draco had heard.  He'd ignored the information, however, knowing that he had no plans on going.  "So?" he asked coolly, not looking up.  He didn't want to become distracted again. 

"So," she hesitated a moment.  "I was, um…" Now he did look up, eyes narrowing.  He hadn't heard Cara sound that uncertain in a long time.  She looked at him and blushed, before dropping her eyes back to her cauldron.  "I was hoping we could go and have, like, a date," she finally mumbled.

Draco stared at her, something warm spreading through his chest.  It was the same something that started whenever she smiled at him, or blushed after he kissed her.  She wanted to be linked, publicly with him.  She honestly didn't care that he was Draco Malfoy, that the majority of the school hated his very guts.  He knew she'd taken some teasing, some hassling from her housemates over her rumored involvement with him, but wanting it out so publically?

He rose, not entirely sure what to say, and was about to reach over and touch her, when she shifted and a black envelope fell out of her pocket.  Draco glanced down and frowned.  It looked familiar…

"Where did you get this?" he asked, reaching down and picking it up.  As soon as he touched it, he knew.  And that warmth turned to ice.

Cara looked at it, and frowned.  "Oh, I was going to ask you if you had any idea what that could be," she said.  "I got it at breakfast this morning."  She shrugged.  "Probably another joke."

Grimly, he pulled the paper out and unfolded it, reading the message silently.  Just as silently, he walked over and dropped the paper in the fireplace, watching it burn.  Damn Bellatrix.  Damn her.  

"Draco?" Cara said behind him, sounding puzzled.  "What on earth…?"

He jerked around and glared at her.  "You won't be going to Hogsmead," he said curtly.  "Neither will I."

Her jaw dropped and for a moment she gaped at him.  "What?" she asked.

"You heard me," he said coolly, concealing the churning mass of rage and pain and fury at his cousin inside him.  

Her brows snapped together.  "Look, you can tell me you don't want a date, that's fine.  But don't tell me what I can or can't do."  Looking rather angry now, she threw down her spoon and grabbed her bookbag.  "Geeze, the nerve," she kept going.  "Kiss a guy a few times, and he thinks he's the king of the world."

Draco grabbed her arm, intent on making sure she understood.  That she did as he told her, that she stayed safely away from Bellatrix and her twisted plans.  Cara jerked away however, and he drew himself up, stung.  "You're not going," he snapped.  "That's final."

She snarled something at him, and whirling, stormed out of the room.  Draco drew a breath between his teeth, feeling something tear at her absence and cursing himself.  He was weak.  His father would have had him bloody on the floor by now, if the old bastard wasn't dead.

"Bloody hell," he growled, and snatching up his own bag, he headed off toward his dormitory. 

**********

Sonora stepped out of the dark of her office as the classroom door slammed shut for a second time.  She stared after Draco, heartily confused by what had just happened.  What was the boy thinking?  

She glanced toward the fireplace.  Whatever he'd thrown into the fire was burnt away.  Was something wrong? She wondered.  She'd seen softness in Draco, softness that hadn't been there before Cara.  It didn't seem right for him to autocratically order the girl who'd done that as he had just now.

Frowning still, she turned back to her office.  Severus was in a meeting with Dumbledore.  She'd ask him if he'd noticed anything wrong with Draco, she decided.  Because her instincts were telling her it was something, and she had no intention of loosing a boy she'd fought so hard to win away from the Dark.


	17. Explanations and Night Caresses

Readers – ok, so the angst didn't last too long… but the next chapter or two will start to snowball. Draco and Cara better be ready…

Chapter 17

Cara was in Herbology, and was being a little too enthusiastic in her repotting of her mandrake, if the pained look on Professor Sprout's face was any indication.

"Stupid, bloody boy," she muttered, not that anyone in class could hear her, what with them all wearing those styling earmuffs. "Dumb arrogant prick, thinks he can tell me what to do…"

She jerked a finger back a little too late as the mandrake, tired of her rough handling, managed to sink its teeth into her flesh. "Shit, shit, shit," she mumbled. Dammit. She'd have to go to the infirmary now, the stupid thing was bleeding so much. 

Abandoning her cranky plant, she walked over to where Professor Sprout was supervising Colin and his partner as they gingerly maneuvered the mandrake into a new bed of soil. Catching the professor's attention, she held up her bleeding hand and pointed toward the door. Professor Sprout frowned but nodded permission, and Cara headed for the door, catching her bag as she did. 

Outside, she took a deep breath of crisp fall air and yanked off the earmuffs. "Stupid plant," she said, glaring at her bleeding hand as she stomped her way back to the castle. "Stupid boy. Stupid everything."

She yanked the heavy doors open and continued her stomp toward the hospital wing. Her feet took her down the Transfiguration corridor, and she glanced rather absently in the open door of McGonagall's classroom. Her feet slowed as if they were operating on their own as she looked straight at that blonde head that was currently at the root of her problems. 

Draco was sitting slumped at his desk, scratching out notes as Professor McGonagall lectured about something having to do with clothes and cats. Cara stared at him a moment, taking him in while he was oblivious. Her eyebrows drew together in puzzlement. He looked… tired. Stressed, she realized. There was pinched look to his eyes that she hadn't noticed before. 

What was going on with him, she thought, forgetting about her hand. And then he turned his head and his cool gray gaze collided with hers and held for a long moment. Cara couldn't have moved if she'd wanted to, not when Draco was looking at her with that peculiar look in his eyes. It was… hungry? Needy? Combined with a healthy dose of anger and worry. 

And then he glanced down and frowned, and Cara jerked back to herself, remembering her hand. Crap, she was bleeding on the pavement. Biting her lip, she turned away and hurried on to the Hospital Wing, feeling those gray eyes lingering on the spot she'd been standing in.

*********

Draco was not happy. Not at all. Not only had he managed to somehow bungle his reasonable, rational explanation to Cara last night, but now his first glimpse of her today was of blood dripping off her hand onto the floor. 

Stupid girl, he mentally growled as he automatically took notes while McGonagall lectured. She'd probably been far too careless and not watched what she was doing. She could have sliced her finger off. Maybe she had, maybe she was loosing blood at an alarming rate and he'd find her passed out on the way to the Hospital Wing…

"Mr. Malfoy!" The professor's crisp voice cut into Draco's musings, and he jerked his head up, appalled that he'd been caught not paying attention. Much to his relief, he found that the other students were all heading out the door, and he was the last one remaining at his seat. Professor McGonagall quirked an eyebrow at him. "Was there something you needed, Mr. Malfoy?" she asked.

"No, thank you, Professor," he said politely as he rose and stuffed his things into his bag. He had a half hour before Double Charms today. He could take the long way past the Hospital Ward and see if Cara made it there all right. He ignored the professor's mildly curious gaze as he headed out the door at a quick pace.

He was leaping lightly up the second to last stair to the Ward when he turned a corner and nearly ran the object of his fixation down.

"Eep!" Cara squeaked, stumbling back a little as she tried to find her feet. Draco couldn't resist the opportunity to reach out and grasp her around the waist, catching her close to him as he steadied her.

"You hurt yourself," he said bluntly, everything else he could have said flying clean out of his head. He reached down and caught the bandaged hand in question, ignoring the glare she was giving him, and examined it for himself.

"Geeze, what are you, my mother?" Cara muttered as she tried to unsuccessfully yank her hand away. Draco merely tightened his grip, careful not to hold onto the bandaged part. He wanted to hold on to her, not hurt her.

"How?" he demanded, looking down at her. Merlin, she really was very small, wasn't she… she came to barely his chin. Someone that small really needed all their parts in working order, if they were to have any chance against someone like Bellatrix…

Cara looked down her nose at him as she glared, no small feat when she was looking up at him. She'd stopped trying to pull away, at least. "I got bitten by a mandrake," she said in a voice that clearly indicated she was not happy with him.

Draco just glared back. "You need to be more careful," he said, and then surprised himself and her by lifting the bandaged hand to his lips and gently pressing a kiss there. Cara just stared up at him then, face softening, lips loosing their angry bend. Draco studied her hand. Small, but strong, he thought. He had to be careful not to forget the strong part, or he might find himself sockless or worse, ear-less. 

He looked at her as she sighed. "Draco," she said. "We need to talk."

An eyebrow slid up despite himself. "Do we?" he said coolly. He had no intention of telling her about Bellatrix. She was a Gryffindor, there was no telling what she'd do.

Her eyebrows snapped back together and lips firmed back into a frown. "Yes, we do," she said. "You need to tell me what got you acting like such an arrogant prat last night."

"But I am an arrogant prat," he said, dodging for all he was worth, voice superior even while he kept his grip on her. 

Now he watching in vague interest as she raised an eyebrow of her own. It was quite a look, he thought. "No kidding, Einstein," she said, "but this is one of those things that you need to explain to me."

"Why?" he asked. And frankly, he meant it. He was truly curious. He'd never bothered to explain himself to anyone before, why should he start now. Besides, who was Einstein?

Cara sighed again, and once more tried to pull away. Draco was having none of it. She looked up, frustration written all over her face. "Dammit, Draco, this is why!" she exclaimed in exasperation. "You can't just, well, hold on to me like this, and then boss me around without giving me a bloody good reason!" She glared. "It just doesn't work that way."

Draco studied her. Perhaps she was right, he thought. After all, if he gave her a small part of the truth, it could help her to be on her guard… not to mention he might have her assistance in his preparations… Well, perhaps not going that far, he amended, but at least she would know to be careful.

Mentally conceding, he once again lifted her hand to his lips. "Astronomy Tower, three hours after dinner," he told her.

She was looking at him seriously. "Ok," she said. And then reached up with her spare hand to clutch his front and pull him down to her level so she could press her lips to his. Draco savored the flavor of her for that lingering moment, allowing his tongue to slip in and taste that always-lingering dark chocolate flavor that seemed to be a part of her. She pulled back and this time he let her go. He needed to get to Charms. She looked up at him as she settled her bag more comfortably on her should and stepped away. "I'll see you tonight," she said quietly, and then hurried off.

Draco turned and watched her go, a small figure in school robes disappearing down the hallway. Then he glanced at his watch and muttered a curse, he had only a few minutes before class. He started to sprint. He didn't want to give Potter and Weasley the satisfaction of smirking when he was late.

**********

That evening, Cara approached the dark Astronomy Tower with a great deal of uncertainty. Just when she had a good mad thing going on, Draco came chasing after her and kissed her hand. Kissed her bloody hand! How was she supposed to stay righteously pissed off after that?

She pushed the trap door open and climbed up into the dark, shivering a little as the wind swirled through the open windows. It was chilly tonight, at least she'd remembered her cloak. She let the trap door thump back down, and peered around in the dark shadows. "Draco?" she called, a little uncertainly.

"Here," came a low voice to her right, and she turned to see Draco glide out of one of the deep shadows, almost as if he hadn't been there a moment before. The moon glinted off his hair as she looked at him, making it pale silver in the night, shadowing his eyes. 

"Hi," she said rather inanely, looking up at him as he came to a stop inches from her, his body nearly brushing hers. A tingle went through her, a hot wave of something inexplicable as the wind swirled between them, and she shivered. 

"You're cold," he said, and frowned. He reached out and pulled her close to him, turning her and leading her to one of the observation benches. He sat and straddled the stone bench, pulling her to sit between his legs and then wrapping his cloak about the two of them. 

Cara snuggled down with a sigh. "You can be so damn mean, and then you do something like this," she said, almost not realizing she was talking aloud. "How's a girl supposed to figure you out, Draco?"

He bent his head so his lips nearly brushed her ear. "Don't try," he said, breath warm and whisper soft against her ear.

She sighed and shivered again, this time not from the cold as his arms tightened about her. "It's a girl thing," she said softly back. "We can't help it." She shivered again as his lips closed over a pulse point on the side of her neck. "D-Draco," she stuttered a bit, a wave of heat washing over her. "Talk to me, please?"

He nibbled a moment more on her neck, sending her nerves haywire and nearly melting her into a puddle of gibbering idiocy. Then he lifted his head and tucked her closer. "The only reason I am telling you anything," he said in a soft, firm voice, "is because otherwise you may put yourself into more danger from sheer ignorance and stupidity."

"Thanks," she muttered, but he ignored her.

"I will assume you are aware of Bellatrix Lestrange and her role in the debacle at the Department of Mysteries last spring?" he asked over her head. 

Cara shivered, not from heat this time. Ginny had given few details, but she'd gleaned enough to get the idea. "Yeah," she said soberly.

She heard the mocking twist to his voice. "Dear Bellatrix happens to be my mother's cousin," he said. "She was kind enough to spend her summer with my mother and I this year." Cara stiffened. She didn't like where this was going. "Suffice to say, my rather… checkered past has set her to playing games with me, a game where the end result will be one of us dead."

Cara just sat and silently counted ten. Then she took a deep breath. "Why?" she asked.

"Why, what?" he countered, the cool disinterest in his voice. She was fairly sure it was faked, however. She was starting to know him a little better than that.

"Why does she want you dead?" she asked, staring forward, out at the dark, moonlit grounds of Hogwarts. 

There was silence behind her, and in an unconscious move to comfort, she leaned back against him a little more, trying to give him the warmth of her body. He finally spoke. "You recall last year and my… involvement with Professor Stone?" he said. Cara nodded, cheek pressed against one of his arms. Who could have forgotten? The incident had led to Draco's infamous probation for the rest of the year. 

"Over the holidays, when most of the castle was gone, there was another… incident," he said carefully. "Suffice to say, at the end of it my father's supporters and a certain powerful person were left in no doubt with whom my loyalties lay."

Cara waited a moment longer, but he'd clearly finished. It was enough for now, she decided. Draco wasn't someone who was used to having to share his life at all. She'd get the rest of the story from him another time. 

He spoke again. "The letter you received was from Bellatrix," he said. "She has included you in her threats." Cara's blood chilled at the thought. "I will not let her have you," he said, voice emotionless. "This is between her and I. But you cannot give her any opportunities."

"So no trip to Hogsmead," Cara said softly, understanding now. She sighed. "Ok," she said. She felt him tense behind her and laid her head against his arm again. "Really," she said. "I know you don't have a very good opinion of Gryffindors as a whole, but I'm not stupid. Most of us aren't. Just don't ask me to let you face this alone."

"Cara…" he started, a note of irritation in his voice.

"No," she interrupted. "I realize you've gone through a lot of trouble, here, Draco, to keep this all very quiet and away from people. From the professors, too, right?" She felt his stiff nod. "Ok. I'm not going to tell anyone. But I AM going to help you. Because that's what people who care do, they help each other."

His voice was low and soft and rich above her head. "And you care," he said, voice not quite a question. 

She was feeling that warmth return, and shivered with it. "Yes," she whispered. She felt the soft puff of his breath exhaling against her cheek, and then the soft brush of his lips behind her ear. She caught her breath as he nuzzled that spot before moving to take her earlobe gently in his teeth. Now that warmth in her body was rapidly getting hotter, and as his tongue swirled around her earlobe, she squirmed in uncertain pleasure. 

"Shh," he whispered against her skin. She froze, her breath stopping as she felt his hands move and slid beneath her sweater and blouse to rest against the bare skin of her stomach. Gods, how could just the feel of his hands against her skin feel so good? She wondered frantically. 

And then he turned his head and caught her lips in a long drugging kiss, and she surrendered to the mind-numbing pleasure of his lips and hands.


	18. Complications and Crisis

Autumn Fairy – Now THAT's a complement.  Chocolate?  *licking lips*  Mmm…  chocolate…  *clearing throat*  Ahem.  There's just something incredibly sexy about bad boys, isn't there?  And Draco certainly fits that category…  Have you checked out the story that comes first, "Hidden Intents"?  That one features my favorite Potions Master…  another sexy man…

Glittergirl14142 – yep.  Bad boys.  Mmm-mmm.  Keep reading and enjoying this one…

Shahrezad1 – heh heh heh.  Danger, you say?  How did you know?  *rubbing hands in anticipation*  Lets see how you like the end of this chapter…

Metrodweller - *grinning like an evil maniac*  No one is safe in my stories.  Be afraid, be very afraid…

Amidala – glad you like it!  Draco's got that itty-bitty-teeny-weeny bit of sweetness buried deep inside, doesn't he?  I like to think so…  

Everyone else reading – please review!  Or I'll make you wait on this cliffhanger a looong time…  *smirk*  How about a bribe?  Give me lots of reviews, and I'll get you the next chapter this week…

Chapter 18

Cara was humming as she came down the stairs from the girls dormitory.  La-la-la-la-la-la-la…  So Draco's crazed cousin was trying to kill him, so what?  Last night, they'd gotten very up-close and personal in the Astronomy Tower, and she refused to dwell on the scary stuff.  After all, she pretty much knew that Draco would do the dwelling for both of them.  She figured she'd do her part and keep things from getting too bleak.  

She glanced around the nearly empty common room.  Practically everyone was at breakfast, she was running late, courtesy of one Ginny Weasley refusing to get out of the shower in a timely manner.  That was in retaliation for one Cara McDouglas refusing to spill every little detail of the night before.  

Her eyes fell on the sole person sitting in a chair in the corner, staring off into space.  She frowned.  "Harry?" she asked.  His head jerked up and eyes focused on her.  "Are you ok?"  He looked a little pale, she thought, and there were dark circles under his eyes.

He lifted a shoulder and dropped it.  "Didn't get much sleep," he said briefly.  "Go on down to breakfast, if Ron asks, I'm coming."

She eyed him uncertainly, he didn't really look all that great.  But he'd already looked away from her, staring off into space again, and she got the feeling that he'd just flat out refuse to talk to her if she tried again.  She shrugged and headed for the portrait.  She suspected this was pancake morning, and if there weren't a few blueberry ones left, someone was going to get hurt.  

"Cara," Harry's voice stopped her in the act of opening the portrait.  

She turned around and looked at him in surprise.  "Yes, Harry?" she asked.  

His eyes were intense on her face, and she felt her head start to ache a little.  Funny how that seemed to happen when he got that look on his face…  "Tell Malfoy I said to be careful."  Cara blinked at him in startled shock, after all, Harry wasn't really Draco's biggest fan, even if he _had_ said that the other boy wasn't all bad.  But Harry looked away again, and she was left to close her mouth before she continued gaping like a fish.  With a confused shake of her head, she stepped through the portrait and headed for the great hall.  What was up with that boy?

**********

Draco was on his way to Astronomy when Cara came dashing after him.  "Hey," she said, catching him by the sleeve and tugging.  

He looked down, and pulled her to the side of the hallway, out of the way of the passing students' curious looks.  "Yes?" he said, arching one eyebrow.  While he appreciated her enthusiasm for his company, it wasn't like her to chase him down in the hall.  

"First, this," she said, jumping up on her toes and planting a kiss smack on his lips.  An enthusiastic if somewhat hasty move that left Draco with the slightest hint of a smile.  "And then, Harry asked me to tell you something."

His eyes narrowed sharply.  Potter…  "What?" he said, his voice a cold hiss.  

She gave him what was probably meant to be an intimidating stare.  "Quit.  He's not out to get you or anything."  She frowned.  "Although it WAS kind of weird…  I mean, he's just sitting there, and he really didn't want to talk, and I was on my way out of the room and he just come out with it…"

"Cara," he interrupted, muscles tight with the need to go pound Potter.  It didn't matter why.  "Get on with it."

"Right.  Sorry.  Anyway, he said to tell you to be careful."  Cara frowned.  "And then he just kind of zoned out again.  I'm telling you, that guy can be weird.  I mean, I know Ginny's got a thing for him, and I can see where she'd get that, he _is_ cute and all, but he's got major issues and he says the strangest things…"

Draco stopped listening for a moment.  Be careful?  What the hell was Potter playing at?  His brow furrowed as he thought intently.  He'd been extremely careful not to let his situation, as it were, get out around the school.  With the gossip mill, it wouldn't take long for everyone to know.  So what in the name of Merlin was the Boy Wonder talking about?

Briefly, he flashed to a recollection of last winter, and how Potter had gotten a 'dream' of Professor Stone's abduction.  His blood slowed and chilled at the thought that perhaps, just perhaps, the other boy was referring to something similar with him.  Damn it all, he thought furiously, he was going to have to talk to the bastard.  And he did NOT want to do that.  

Abruptly, he realized that the hallways were clearing, and Cara was standing, patiently watching him.  He looked down at her and she raised an eyebrow.  "You going to share?" she asked.

He eyed her.  "Do I have a choice?" he said, somewhat dryly.  "You'll babble on at me until I tell you."

She smiled sweetly.  "See, you know me so well already," she said, and leapt up to press another kiss on him.  This time he was able to catch her and prolong it into something a little more satisfying.  When he let her go, he was able to smirk at the soft, dazed look in her eyes.  "Right," she sighed.  "Ok.  Off to class.  You'll tell me later, right?"

He sighed and let her go, giving her a gentle push the other way from him.  "Astronomy Tower, tonight," he said.  "Same time."

She grinned.  "The other students are going to start wondering who's locking them out every night."

He snorted in disdain.  "Let them," he said with a curl to his lip.  He hadn't hexed anyone in a while, he wouldn't mind if some nitwit decided to challenge his right to do just as he pleased.  It would be quite enjoyable.  

She rolled her eyes.  "I'm late for Herbology, I'll see you later," she called over her shoulder as she dashed off.  

Draco watched her go with a look of indulgence.  It was fascinating, this feeling she inspired.  Protective, possessive, one of amazement and adoration.  He had a sneaking suspicion that he could lay a name to it, but he refused to do so.  Not yet.  Not until he had Bellatrix straightened out, one way or another.  

Turning, he headed for Astronomy, mentally making a note to corner Potter later and demand to know exactly what he'd meant.

**********

It was after dinner before Draco was able to track Potter down.  He found him in the library, hunched over some books with his faithful sidekicks.  Draco strolled up to where the three were muttering together and stopped, waiting until all three gazes shot to him.  He looked at no one but the green-eyed other boy, however, his own gaze cold and remote.  

"Potter," he said coolly.  "A word."

"Bloody hell, Malfoy, what the blazes…" Weasley started, sounding pissed off as usual.  Draco could have cared less, his eyes steady on the person he was determined to get alone.  He wanted this conversation done and over with. 

Harry shook his head at his friend, cutting him off even while keeping his eyes locked with Draco's.  "No, Ron, it's ok," he said, rising.  "Let's take this somewhere quite, Malfoy."

Draco inclined his head.  "After you," he said coldly.  As he followed Potter from the library, he was intently aware of the many curious eyes following them, particularly the two they had just left behind.  He wouldn't be surprised if Granger and Weasley followed and tried to eavesdrop on them.

Potter seemed to have an idea of where he was going, and they ended up on the second floor, in a dusty, abandoned classroom.  Harry turned as Draco shut the door and pulled out his wand.  Draco's appeared in his hand by instinct, but all Potter did was point it at the door and mutter a locking and silencing charm.  

Draco slipped his wand back into his pocket.  "What was your bloody message about, Potter?" he snapped, not wasting time.  He didn't want to be in close quarters with the Boy-Who-Lived any longer than necessary.

Potter ignored him and walked over to pull out a chair and sink down into it like he was tired.  Bloody hell, he looked awful, Draco noticed belatedly.  Eyes sunken and skin pale.  "Well?" Draco demanded roughly.  Bloody arrogant Gryffindor.

Potter rubbed a hand over his face as if to wipe something away.  "You mean what I said to Cara this morning," he said, as if Draco hadn't made that perfectly clear.

"You know precicely what I'm referring to," Draco shot back icily.  "Explain."

Potter dropped his hand and gave a faint grin.  "Don't go into politics, Malfoy, you've got no diplomacy," he said before his grin faded.  "You've got Bellatrix after you."

Draco's blood chilled.  "_How do you know that_?" he demanded in a near whisper.  

Potter raised his eyes to meet Draco's in a humorless, tired gaze.  "Same way I know everything," he said, voice grim.  "Our dear friend, Tom Riddle."

Draco was momentarily confused.  "Who?" he said.

Potter had the gall to roll his eyes.  "God, he really tells his followers nothing, doesn't he?" he said.  "Voldemort.  Previously known as Thomas Marvolo Riddle, half-blood and former Head Boy of Hogwarts."  Draco had to gape for a moment.  Bloody hell…

Then he got a grip on himself.  "How do you know?" he demanded again.  

Potter rubbed his forehead once more.  "I've got a…  connection, you could call it," he said and gave a bitter laugh.  "Voldemort used it last year to get me to the Department of Mysteries.  I've learned how to block it, but sometimes I get flashes of…  plans, or thoughts, I guess you could say.  They're not him planting things anymore, they're just what slips through when he's not being careful."

"And you got a 'flash' about Bellatrix," Draco said, voice chilly.  Inside, he was worried, scared even.  He knew he couldn't handle the Dark Lord.  Bellatrix, he'd been preparing for, but if Lord Voldemort was now involved…

Potter stared at the ground.  "He knows about her and what she's going to do to you," he said, and shrugged.  "So I know."

"Dammit," Draco muttered under his breath, turning to stare out the windows on the far side of the dark room.  

Potter broke the silence.  "I don't think he's involved, if you're worrying about that."  There was an inelegant snort behind him.  "There's no mistaking it when he's pleased or excited about something he's about to do.  This is more him approving her plan."

"Shut up, Potter," Draco snapped.  His own head was aching.  What did this mean?  How did it affect what he had to do?

"She's sent me a note too," Potter said, ignoring him.  "Similar to the one Cara got."  At that, Draco jerked back around to glare at the other boy.  Potter's gaze was steady and remote.  "Along the lines of, 'I finished off your worthless godfather, I'll get you soon'."  He was nearly emotionless now, as he snorted.  "Right.  She's clearly crazy, because good ol' Tom wants that pleasure himself."

Briefly, Draco found himself wondering what it would be like, going through life knowing that the most dangerous man in the world was out to kill you.  Then he pushed the unaccustomed thought aside.  He had his own problems.  "Why you?" he finally ground out, reluctant to talk to Potter about anything.  "I understand Cara, but why you?"

Potter shrugged, and got up and started to pace.  "Everyone wants to kill me," he said flatly.  Draco had nothing to say to that, they both knew it was true.  Hell, Draco's father had raved non-stop about how he'd like to serve his master and finish Potter off.  

"Fuck," Draco finally said, giving in to the weariness that was seeping through his mind and body and pinching the bridge of his nose in an effort to relieve some of the tension gathering behind his eyes.  "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Potter gave another humorless laugh.  "Yeah, that pretty much says it," he said dryly.  He pulled his wand back out and pointed it at the door, muttering the counter-charms.  "I just thought you should know."

Draco said nothing, staring at the window as the other boy headed for the door.  "Potter," he finally said, words practically sticking in his throat but something forcing him to say them despite himself.  Perhaps it was Professor Stone, lingering in the back of his mind, or Cara, floating through his consciousness.  He heard the feet pause.  "Thanks," he forced out.

There was silence for a moment, and he could literally feel the other's gaze on him.  A mild headache slipped through his defenses, one that disappeared as the Potter said softly, "Anytime."   And then he heard the sound of the door closing behind him.

Draco stared out the window, alone now.  Shit.  What did it all mean?  He had the sinking feeling that Bellatrix was lurking around the corner, waiting to strike.  And he wasn't sure he was ready.  His potion worked, but not enough.  Not enough to give him the advantage he needed.  Shit, shit, shit, he thought again.

A few long moments later, he glanced at his watch and realized he was late to meet Cara.  He turned and headed for the door.  He didn't like to leave her wandering about alone, not after this piece of news.  

**********

Cara was strolling leisurely along towards the Astronomy Tower, when she nearly ran into Ginny.  "Whoa," her friend said, stopping quickly to avoid running into her.  "Where are you going?"

Cara gave her a smug grin.  "Why, to meet Draco, of course?"

Ginny eyed her speculatively.  "Tell me, buddy ol' pal of mine," she said, leaning close.  "Is he as built as he looks?" she whispered. 

Cara gave her friend a solemn look.  "Better," she whispered back.  And the two of them giggled.  

As they were standing there, Millecent Bulstrode came around the corner, cast them a disdainful look, and swept on past.  As she did, a quill fell from her bookbag over her shoulder.  

"Hey," Cara started half-heartedly, but the other girl was already gone.

"She probably wouldn't have bothered to come back for it," Ginny said, shrugging.  She walked over to where the quill was lying on the ground.  "Heck, I could use a new one.  Ron keeps thinking mine are sugar quills and chewing up the ends."  Ginny reached down to pick up the quill, and just as her fingers touched it, she disappeared.

Cara stood there, frozed, shocked.  "Oh, God," she whispered.  "Ginny?"  Not even pausing to think, she pulled her wand out and clutched it tight in her hand, before reaching to grab for the quill herself.  Just as her own fingers brushed it, she heard two voices, coming from different places.

"Ginny?" one called.  

"Cara, no!" the other said, but it was too late.  Cara felt that tug at her navel and knew in a sickening flash what it was.  Portkey, she thought fearfully, and then Hogwarts disappeared.  


	19. Pain

**All right, so I couldn't resist.  Now you all owe me massive amounts of reviews!!!

Chapter 19

Draco had been hurrying to get to the Astronomy Tower.  He had every intention of distracting Cara as much as possible before informing her of Potter's knowledge of the situation.  He smirked silently as he moved quickly through the dark hallways.  'Distracting' Cara was becoming one of his favorite pastimes.

He had just reached the top of the third floor stair when Millecent Bulstrode brushed past him, cold look in her eyes, pointedly ignoring his existence.  He paid her no mind, she was just another Slytherin who'd chosen to shun him last year, and consequently was terrified to meet his eyes this year.  

He heard voice ahead, and picked out Cara's.  He smiled, despite himself, as his feet quickened.  She was something special, this girl…  she made him smile even when his thoughts were dark and enough to tempt him to something drastic.  He identified Ginny Weasley as the other voice, and was rounding the corner when he picked up some of their conversation.  

"She probably wouldn't have bothered to come back for it," Weasley said, voice faintly carrying. Draco was a ways down the hall, but could see as she walked over to where a quill was lying on the ground. "Heck, I could use a new one. Ron keeps thinking mine are sugar quills and chewing up the ends." The redhead reached down to pick up the quill, and just as her fingers touched it, she disappeared.  Draco felt a shock go through his body and nearly froze in surprise.  No.  It was too soon…

As he stood in temporary shock, Cara gasped, looking bewildered. "Oh, God," she whispered. "Ginny?" And then before his horrified eyes, she pulled her wand out and clutched it tight in her hand, before reaching to grab for the quill herself.

"Cara, no!" Draco shouted, springing forward as fast as he could, but it was too late. At the same time, he heard Potter's voice down the other end of the hall, calling "Ginny?"  Cara had disappeared from sight.

"Dammit," Draco cursed under his breath, running down the hall and skidding to a halt next to the inoffensive looking quill.  

"Draco," Potter's voice came behind him, tense and terse.  "It's her, isn't it?"

In reply, Draco pointed his wand at the quill.  "_Revealo_," he snapped.  A faint mist arose from the portkey and briefly took the shape of his cousin's smirking face before fading away.  

"Fuck," Potter said.  "Right.  Let's go."

Draco whirled on him at that.  "Stay out of this, damn you," he snapped.  "I don't have time to baby-sit you while I deal with Bellatrix."

Potter just glared back.  "You need help, and I'll be damned if I let Ginny or Cara stay in any danger, just because you're a pig-headed ass of a Slytherin," he growled.  "Not to mention I'm probably the best bet you've got in this school."  He reached into his bookbag and yanked out a rather familiar looking piece of fabric.  "I've got my cloak with me.  Get under, and let's go."

Draco breathed through his teeth, trying to get a grip on his panic and fury.  He did not want Potter along, but he had to admit, help would probably be good.  And Potter had a knack for getting in and out of tight situations.  Potter unfolded the cloak and swirled it over his shoulders, casting Draco an impatient look.  "Move it, Malfoy," he said tersely, dropping his bookbag on the ground even as the rest of him disappeared from view.

"Fuck," Draco growled, before tossing his own bag down on the ground.  Before he did, however, he pulled out the small vial he'd taken to carrying around.  For what reason, he didn't know.  But something had inspired him to put his vial in the bag that morning, and now he was glad to have it.  If only it would help.

He wrenched the top off and took two swallows.  "Here," he growled, shoving the rest at Potter, half-invisible even though he was.  

"What's this," Potter demanded, narrow green eyes on him.  

"Dammit, Potter, drink the bloody potion," Draco snarled, grasping his wand tightly.  "It's a bloody protection, ok?  To try and block pain from curses.  We're going to need it."

Somewhat to his surprise, because he would've expected the other boy to have refused anything _he'd_ brewed, Potter took the vial, downed the liquid in one gulp and grimaced.  "Right," Potter said, tossing the vial over his shoulder and ignoring the tinkle as the glass shattered.  "Let's go."

Draco tightened his grip on his wand, and stepped under the cloak.  Potter pulled the hood up, and once they were both completely covered in fabric, cast him a sardonic look.  "Hold on," Draco muttered, and stretched out a foot to touch the quill.  There was a jerk at his navel, and the halls of Hogwarts disappeared.

**********

Cara stumbled and fell heavily to her knees, gasping as the skin was torn by rough ground.  Oww, oww, oww, she thought, grimacing as she shoved herself back up on her feet, casting a wary look around.  

She was in a large, dimly lit room, bare of any furniture.  The walls were some dark, dull paper, the floor a dirty wood.  She spotted a flash of red hair on the far side of the room, and immediately started toward it.

"Ginny?" she whispered frantically, glancing around anxiously as she hurried across the room.  Her friend was lying on her back on the floor, eyes closed.  Cara huddled down and tentatively shook her.  "Gin?  Are you ok?"

Ginny groaned and lifted a hand to her forehead.  "Dammit," she muttered.  "Remind me never to touch anything belonging to a Slytherin."

Cara felt her skinned knees go weak, she was so relieved to hear her friend's voice.  "Right," she said softly.  "Can you sit up?  Are you hurt?"

Ginny opened her eyes, glared at the ceiling for a second, and then slowly sat up.  "I'm ok," the redhead said cautiously.  She patted her pockets, and then pulled out her wand.  "Still got my wand.  You?"

Cara lifted her right hand.  "Yep," she started to reply when there was a laugh from the far side of the room.  It was a sound that sent icy chills down Cara's spine, a sound that she had a sickening feeling she was not going to like.

"Oh look," a woman's voice crooned.  "Two for the price of one."  Cara and Ginny both jerked about, Ginny scrambling to her feet, wands outstretched.  On the other side of the room a woman was standing.  

"Bellatrix," Ginny said flatly.  Cara felt a wave of cold go down her back.

Bellatrix Lestrange threw back her head and laughed, that crazy scary insane laugh.  "What a pleasure, the little Miss Weasley again.  And here I was just expecting your dear friend Cara."  Cara shivered as a smirk was turned on her.  "After all, _she's _the one who's going to bring Draco this way."

Cara forced herself to speak up, to be brave.  "You don't want to do this," she declared, trying not to sound scared.  What she was, in fact, was terrified.  

Bellatrix just smirked even more.  "Oh, I most certainly do," she said sweetly, and then raised her own wand.  

"_Bulbous protectiago_!" Cara shouted fiercly, grabbing for Ginny's other arm as Bellatrix's wand tip came up.  All she could think of was the snippets Ginny had let drop about last spring, about Draco's scanty details and the scars she'd felt under her fingertips.  All she knew was she had to try and keep Bellatrix's curses off them.  The familiar orange glow sprang up about her and Ginny.  Something hard slammed into the shield, making it shake and shudder.

"Quick, hex her," she gritted.  Her head was starting to pound, and she'd only been holding the shield for a few seconds.  There were several more thuds in a row, each one harder than the other.

Ginny was pale, and Cara could feel fine tremors in the arm she was clutching, but her friend raised her own wand and began to fire hexes with a fierce look on her face.  For a moment, Cara felt a flash of hope.  Her shield was holding, and Ginny was shouting every hex she knew, flashes of light shooting from the tip of her wand.

And then there was that frightening laugh again, and something slammed into Cara's shield with such force that it knocked the two of them backward off their feet.  Cara not only lost control of the shield, her wand slipped from her hand as she fell heavily to the floor.  Lights flashed behind her eyes as her head hit hard against the dirty wood floor, and she groaned.

"_Bulbous protectiago_," she heard Ginny shouting, a note of desperation in her voice, but her eyes were heavy.  Crap, was all she could think as she slumped over on the floor.

**********

Draco managed to keep his feet, barely, as the portkey set them down.  Still securely under the cloak, Potter gripped his arm.  Draco didn't spare him a glance, all his attention was focused on the figures on the other side of the room.  

Bellatrix, he thought in utter hate.  As he watched, she laughed, that high, crazed sound that haunted his nightmares, and pointed her wand at a rather weak-looking orange glow on the other side of the room.  

"_Crucio_!" Bellatrix called in a taunting voice, and there was a faint cry as the orange glow winked out.  Potter's fingers dug warningly into his arm as the two of them saw the girls lying on the floor, slumped over and apparently injured.  Cara lay on one side, hair falling over her face.  Draco couldn't tell if she was conscious, and his fear increased.

Bellatrix laughed again, and pointed her wand once more.  "_Crucio_," she said again, triumph practically dripping from her voice.  Draco couldn't prevent the hiss of breath between his teeth as Cara's limp body jerked in reaction and a strangled moan came from her lips.  

Bellatrix had heard him, however, and stopped to turn in his direction.  "Draco," she cooed, looking supremely satisfied.  "Come out and play, cousin, dear.  I've been waiting for you."

Draco gripped his wand tightly.  This was it.  He shot Potter as telling a look as possible, willing him to stay under the cloak and use it to his advantage, and then jerked away, stepping out from under the fabric and into the dim shadows of the room.

Bellatrix grinned madly when she saw him.  "My ickle cousin, come to play," she cooed again.  She pointed her wand at him.  "I told you, there was no way to hide," she said.  She waved her other hand over her shoulder.  "And really, you should thank me for taking care of that weak little girlfriend of yours," she smiled.  "A Malfoy shouldn't lower himself to such standards."

"I thought I'd already disgraced the name unbearably," Draco shot back, in as steady and mocking a tone as possible.  "What's a little more?"

"Now you're going to sound like my dear departed cousin Sirius," Bellatrix snarled.  "You're a traitor to your blood like he was.  And he died, just like you're going to."  A maniac smile stretched over her face.  "I'm going to enjoy this."

Come on, Potter, Draco thought desperately.  Wasn't the Boy Wonder going to do _anything_?  Catch Bellatrix off-guard, dammit!

"_Stupedify_," came from his far right, just as he was thinking it, and Bellatrix whirled with a shriek of rage as she dodged the beam of yellow light.  

"_Protego_," she hissed.  "_Accio, revealo_!"  Much to Draco's dismay, the cloak flew off Potter to reveal the grim-faced boy standing, wand pointed at Bellatrix.

She laughed like the insane person she was.  "Potter!" she crowed.  "Even better!"  "_Expellariamus_!" she shouted, and it was on.  Draco barely managed to dodge to one side before beginning to fire off curses of his own.   All the while, Bellatrix circled them with that maniac smile, hurling hexes of all shapes and sizes.  One sliced his upper arm, and he gritted his teeth as he flung a cutting charm back at her.  His potion seemed to help, however, as the blood flowed and he was still able to duck and spin.  

A few feet away, Potter was down on one knee, having ducked a _stupedify_ and was shooting a Boiling Hex back at her.  He didn't have to look to know that the other boy was as grim-faced and determined as he was, or that Potter was trying to ease them around to stand in front of the girls.

But Bellatrix would have none of it.  "_Crucio_," she shouted, and Draco was a second too slow.  The beam of green light hit his shoulder, and his body exploded with pain. Any remnants of his potion vanished in the onslaught of the Unforgivable Curse.  He couldn't fight the scream that was ripped out of his throat as he fell heavily to his knees.  

"_Petrificus totalis_," he dimly heard Potter shouting, followed by a string of other curses, but the pain didn't stop.  Bellatrix was far too good at dodging, and far too eager to hold him under the Unforgivable.  His skin was on fire, his fingers exploding…

And then there was another voice, a weak one this time.  "_Stupedify_," it said, and the pain stopped.  Draco slumped forward before he could catch himself.  Potter was there a moment later.  

"You all right," the other boy said harshly.  

Draco forced himself back up on his knees, noting the blood dripping from a cut over Potter's eyebrow and the boils on his left hand.  Guess Perfect Potter wasn't so perfect after all.  "Fine," he ground out, managing to stand.  

"Good," Potter said, before moving swiftly off.  Draco looked after him and then his feet made him move before his brain registered what was before him.

"Cara," Draco said urgently, anxiously as he painfully dropped to one knee beside where she lay still on the floor.  "Dammit, girl, open your eyes!"  She was frighteningly pale, eyes closed and barely seemed to be breathing.

"Bite me," she said very faintly, so faintly he wouldn't have heard if it he hadn't seen her lips move.  

He nearly sagged in relief.  "Perhaps later," he managed, dropping his head until his forehead touched hers.  "Merlin."

"Ginny," Potter was saying next to him, voice tight.  "Come on, Gin.  Wake up.  Wake up!"  Draco looked over to see that the redhead was limp and still as Potter cradled her.  Potter met Draco's eyes over her head, his face something that Draco recognized.  It was what he'd feared when he'd seen Cara hit with the _cruciatus_.  "We've got to get back to Hogwarts," Potter said.

"How?" Draco growled.  "That bitch has us who-knows-where, and we don't know if there are any others around.  We could be in the middle of Voldemort's stronghold."

Potter just looked grimmer, and seemed to cradle Ginny closer.  "Cara, you all right?" he asked shortly.

"Yes," she said softly from where she lay against Draco, her fingers somehow having become laced with his.  "I'll be fine.  Is Ginny ok?"

"No," the other boy said shortly.  "We've got to…"

And then there was a soft noise behind them, and both Draco and Harry whirled, wands out, bodies moving instinctively in front of the two girls.  

Professor Snape stood before them, McGonagall at his side, tight-lipped and grim.  "Professor," Draco said, lowering his wand.  He'd never been so relieved to see his Head of House.  

In two strides the Potions Master was down on one knee, brushing him aside to briefly examine Cara before moving on to Ginny.  "You have some explanations to give, Mr. Malfoy," he said curtly, not giving either Draco or Harry a glance.

Professor McGonagall was standing over Bellatrix's limp form, muttering a variety of spells.  Draco saw cords snake around her with deep satisfaction, and watched as the Transfiguration Professor reached down and plucked her wand from between his cousin's limp fingers.  "Are you boys uninjured?" she asked brusquely, turning back to look at them, frowning at the cut on Potter's face, the blood on Draco's shoulder.

"We'll be fine, Professor," Potter answered, voice terse.  Draco was secretly intrigued by the tightness of the other boy's voice, speaking to his own Head of House.  What did he not know about Potter?  His attention focused quickly back on the girl next to him, however, as she laced her fingers with his once more.  

Snape was muttering charms over Ginny Weasley, as she was magically placed and bound to a stretcher.  "Get McDouglas on her feet, Draco," he said harshly, rising.  "Potter, you help.  Let's go."  The older man's voice did not invite questions, and Draco wrapped his arm around Cara's waist, struggling a bit to get them both to their feet as his own body shook with the residual pain of _cruciatus_.  Potter was there, however, and together they all managed to stagger up.  

McGonagall had levitated Bellatrix into the air, and was currently grasping her by one arm.  "Right," she said sharply.  "Grab hold," and she held out one arm.

Potter paused a moment to muttered an _accio _spell to retrieve his cloak, and then Draco stretched out an arm and grasped her sleeve as Snape did the other.  "Hogwarts," she said, and the bare, dim room faded away.


	20. The Result of Darkness

My dearest reviewers:  Prepare yourself, there's still a few loose ends to tie up.  Not to mention a few to start unraveling…  

Chapter 20  

McGonagall and Snape apparently had brought a portkey of their own, because Draco found himself stumbling to keep his feet under him as they appeared in the Hogwarts infirmary.  

"Bring her right here, Professor," Madam Pomphrey's voice said briskly behind him.  "Potter, Malfoy, McDouglas, you get on those beds and don't move until I tell you to."

Draco kept his mouth shut, as he didn't feel this was the best time to draw any more attention to himself and instead concentrated on helping Cara onto a bed.  She was sagging heavily against him, and it was only with Potter's help he was able to nearly carry her to the nearest bed.  He was breathing hard as he settled her back against the pillows.

Potter promptly moved away, toward a bed on the far side of the room rather than the one next to where Cara now lay, eyes closed.  Draco supposed it was some kind of gesture on the other boy's part, and that he ought to be grateful.  For the moment, however, he was too sore and too tired to be bloody grateful.  

Madam Pomphrey was muttering things over the youngest Weasley as Draco settled himself on the narrow hospital bed.  Every nerve ending in his body burned as he forced tired muscles to move.  

The door flew open and Potter's faithful sidekicks came dashing.  "Harry!" Granger exclaimed, spotting him first.  

"You ok, mate?" Ron said, looking concerned.  "We found your bookbag on the floor and…" his voice trailed off as he spotted his sister.  "Ginny," he said, voice tightening.

Draco watched in mild interest as Granger caught him by the arm.  "Wait, Ron," she said softly.  "Madam Pomphrey's with her."  The other's body was tensed and practically straining against her, but Weasley didn't move.  He just gave a tight nod and stood, staring.  

Granger looked back at Potter, hand still firmly in place on Weasley's arm.  "What happened, Harry?  Are you ok?  Is Ginny ok?"

"I think we'd all like to hear what Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy have to say," came Professor McGonagall's voice, sharp and curt.  "However, you two will have to wait your turn.  Professor Dumbledore is expecting the two of them once Madam Pomphrey has checked them over."

"Malfoy," Weasley said, his voice a low, slow, angry rumble.  He turned and spotted where Draco sat, brows drawn fiercely together, and started to stalk toward him.  "What the fuck did you do, you spawn of…"

"Mr. Weasley!  Language!" McGonagall scolded.  Draco and the other boy ignored her, however, as they locked eyes.  Frankly, Draco was a little tired for the kind of the fight Weasley clearly wanted, but he'd be damned if he'd let the other boy down.

"Me, Weasley?" he drawled, purposefully infuriating.  "Why, I feel so special.  Your friend Potter was along on this little adventure, why don't you try pounding on him first?"

Ron opened his mouth to say something else, but McGonagall beat him to it.  "That's quite enough," she snapped.  "Mr. Weasley!  Miss Granger!  Outside, both of you!"  Her finger pointing right in Weasley's face seemed to make the tall redhead finally aware that he was about to pick a fight in front of multiple professors, and so he did as he was told.  Not without a final killing glare at Draco, of course.  

Draco dismissed the two from his mind as soon as the infirmary doors swung closed behind them, and instead looked over at Cara.  She was lying still, right where he left her, with only the regular rise and fall of her chest to remind him that she was still alive.  "Cara…" he said softly, needing to be sure she was still with him, still awake and not in some comatose state like her friend.  

She turned her head at the sound of her name, and soft, dark, pain-filled eyes met his.  "Hey," she said softly.  "You ok?" 

Draco couldn't stop the smile, soft and warm, that slipped out of him.  "I'm fine," he lied.  "Don't go to sleep, ok?  Stay awake, let Madam Pomphrey get around to looking at you."

The door opened again, and he glanced up this time to see Professor Stone limp in.  Her eyes swept the room, lingering on where Snape was bent over Ginny Weasley with the school healer, before taking note of the rest of them.  

Draco dropped his eyes as she looked his way.  He didn't want to see the reprimands, the disappointment that must be there.  He'd managed to land four people, including himself, in the hospital ward.  Two of them innocent girls who were now badly injured.  

A cool hand was laid against his arm, and he jumped, startled to see that Professor Stone had managed to sneak up on him.  "The _crucio_ curse, Draco?" she asked quietly, and helpless he met her eyes, terrified of what he would see.

Instead of the recrimination, the guilt, he saw worry, relief, and enough care to start a lump forming in his throat.  He managed to incline his head slightly in response as her fingers lightly probed the pulses on his wrist, inner arm and neck.  Each touch of those cool hands was like a hot poker to his inflamed nerves and it was all he could do not to grimace in response.  

Professor Stone finally sighed, and pulled from her pocked a bottle of a deep blue glass.  "Take two swallows of this," she told him, pulling the stopper out and pressing it into his hand.  Draco was still struggling with the lump in his throat, and so had to force himself to lift the bottle to his lips.  Obediently he took two swallows, and to his amazement felt a delicious coolness begin to spread along his skin, soothing the blazing nerve endings.  Professor Stone, meanwhile, was murmuring healing charms, mending the broken skin at his shoulder, his knee, and his hands.  All places he'd forgotten about.  

"Cara needs some," he managed to say, a harsh note in his voice.  A soft touch landed against his cheek, his hair before Professor Stone turned away to the other bed.  Draco just sat and focused on quelling the sudden burning in his eyes.  He had no reason to feel that way, no reason to be fighting unexpected tears.  

"Severus, Poppy," Professor Stone said, her voice raised and suddenly sharper.  "You'd better come.  

Draco jerked his head around at that, not noticing that there was no pain anymore and stared at Cara's limp form on the next bed.  "Cara?" he said, a note of panic pushing it's way out.  He clamped down on it, hard, and swallowed.  "Cara?" he said again, more strongly.

Professor Stone was bent over her, wand out, muttering charms as Madam Pomphrey hurried over.  The healer took one long look and her lips pinched tightly together, before her own wand came out and the two women began to work in tandem.  Draco simply watched, chest tight with fear.  

A heavier hand came down on his shoulder.  "Dumbledore wants us," came Potter's voice behind him.  

"Dumbledore can go hang," Draco hissed, swinging his legs around as he made to get up.  Never taking his eyes off the prone figure before him.  He wasn't leaving Cara, not when she lay so still and so white…

The hand tightened.  "They won't let you stay," Potter's voice said behind him.  "Trust me, I know.  As soon as you get up, they'll remember you're here and kick you out."  There was a wealth of bitterness in those words.  Draco still stood tensed and ready to leap to Cara's side.  "McGonagall's waiting."

The hand dropped away, but Draco didn't move.  He didn't think he could.  "Mr. Malfoy," came the Transfiguration Professor's strident tones.  "Now, if you please."  

Madam's Pomphrey's head popped up for a brief moment, frown in her eyes.  "Go, Mr. Malfoy.  You can't do anything here, and since Professor Stone already took care of you, you may as well see the Headmaster."  And then she disappeared again, this time because a curtain was magically drawn about the bed, cutting off all of Draco's view.  

Draco clenched his hand.  Dammit all…  he had to force himself to stand, to walk toward the doorway where McGonagall and Potter waited.  He didn't spare them a glance but stepped right past.  He knew where Dumbledore's office was.  He wasn't going to wait on a bloody escort, because if he stopped, he was fairly sure he'd march right back into that hospital ward and start flinging hexes at whoever got in his way.  None of which would be a terribly smart move on his part.  Funny, he'd caught himself doing a lot of things that weren't necessarily terribly smart since Cara…

**********

Dumbledore was quiet, content to sit and study himself and Potter.  Draco didn't say a word, just sat slumped into the comfortable armchair that had apparently been awaiting him.  In a similar armchair, Potter sat in much the same way.  Neither of them wanted to be there, neither of them wanted to say anything.  It was peculiar, knowing he was thinking the same thing as the Boy Wonder.

Consequently, it was the old man behind the desk who broke the silence first.  "Draco," he said, voice gentle, eyes blue and strangely kind.  "Why don't you begin.  Tell me about Bellatrix."

Draco didn't move.  He wasn't terribly inclined to share the story with anyone, even the Headmaster.  He might not despise the man as he had the first few years at Hogwarts, but neither was he a fan.  He was warily impressed by the power, age and control the old wizard wielded.  

Dumbledore continued to look at him with those eyes, however, and finally he found himself opening his mouth.  "Bellatrix spent the summer at Malfoy Manor," he said curtly.  "She said she was going to kill me for what happened last year…  with my father," he forced out.  

"Why didn't she kill you over the summer?" asked the Headmaster.  Eyes still kind.

Draco sneered, almost instinctively.  "She's enjoys the chase," he said, ice in his words.  

Dumbledore nodded slightly.  "Bellatrix was always a clever and canny girl," he said.  "Even as a student, she enjoyed the anticipation of something more than the actual event."  In the other armchair, Potter shifted slightly.  Potter was royally ticked off for some reason, Draco realized.  Interesting.

For some reason, the knowledge that the Boy Wonder was fuming made Draco relax just a bit.  "She informed me, through letters, of her intents to continue and conclude the game after I arrived at Hogwarts," he continued coldly.  "She also brought Cara McDouglas into the her threats."

Dumbledore nodded again.  This time he looked toward Potter.  "Harry?" he asked, voice mild.  

"I was having dreams about Bellatrix," Potter said, words clipped and short.  "Then I got a letter as well.  I warned Draco earlier today."  Hmm…  Draco thought curiously.  Potter was being awfully curt with the Headmaster.  Interesting.

"Why did neither of you come to one of your professors, or myself, with any of this information?" Dumbledore finally said, eyes probing.  

Potter was the one who spoke first.  "It was none of your concern," he said in a flat voice.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.  "As Headmaster, everything that affects a student's welfare is my concern."  Potter gave a soft snort at that statement and Draco found himself becoming very, very curious what all the undercurrents running through the room were.  Between himself, the Boy Who Lived, and the old wizard behind the desk, there was a lot of tension filling the air.  Far more than he'd expected.  Clearly, there was something he didn't know going on.

"Perhaps the students do not feel the need to communicate every little thing with people who haven't shown them any of the same courtesy in return," Potter countered, anger creeping into his tone.

Dumbledore just looked at Potter for a long moment, and then turned back to Draco.  He thought he caught a hint of sadness in the old man's eyes.  "How did the events of this evening transpire?"

"Bellatrix planted a one-way portkey," Draco said in a flat tone, not dissimilar to the one Potter had used earlier.  "Ginny Weasley apparently activated it accidentally.  Cara followed.  Potter and I went after them."  Anger, hot and healthy and relieving was beginning to pump through him.  He didn't need to be sitting here, discussing this after the fact with Dumbledore.  Perhaps he could have asked for help earlier, but he had no desire to involve anyone in what he viewed as his private affairs.  

Dumbledore tried to draw more out of the two of them, but neither boy was inclined to talk in great detail about the fight that evening.  Finally the Headmaster sighed, blue eyes sad and weary.  "It is late, and both of you have had a rough evening.  I suggest you seek your beds, and I will speak to you again in the morning."

Potter rose quickly and gave a cool nod goodbye before striding out.  Draco was right behind him.  He was weary and worried and as he strode down the steps from the Headmaster's office, he turned in the direction of the Hospital wing.  He was going to see Cara, if he had to hex his way in, he thought grimly.  

**********

Draco stared out at the cold night sky.  The stars were bright and the chilly temperatures seemed to make them sparkle even more than usual.  He sat on the very bench in the Astronomy Tower he and Cara had frequented the last time they were there, and simply stared out at the stars.  

Madam Pomphrey had caught him trying to sneak into the Hospital Ward, and had sent him on his way, very nearly boxing his ears.  Which had made him straighten his spine and nearly snarl something furious at the woman.  A Malfoy wasn't treated like an errant child, by anyone.  

But she'd mentioned in her scolding that Cara was asleep, AND that she would be just fine, come the morning.  And then she'd attempted to change her mind and drag him into the Ward to spend the night under her observation, and he had fled.  He was not staying in the infirmary.  It was too…  insecure for him to sleep properly.  And since he now knew that Cara would be all right, he was free to slink off and find a dark spot to brood in.  

That was what he was doing now, brooding.  Reliving moments from the past summer, from the previous years.  The rage, the violence, the twisted lives that had mingled with his.  The darkness that pervaded his family and everything they touched.  Even he had managed to drag Cara down into that darkness, despite his avowal to do the opposite.  Now, thanks to him, she lay asleep and injured on the far side of the castle.  

He stared unseeing at the stars.  How could he go forward, with this dark cloud that hung over himself and his very name.  He would never be free of it, and anyone who tied themselves to him would never be free as well…

He was suddenly jolted out of his musings by the trap door opening.  Instinctively his wand was out and pointed at the head that emerged.  He didn't move as the person stepped out and turned to him.

"Hello, Draco," Harry Potter said coolly.  


	21. Realizations in Ogden's

Jade – I'm so glad you're reading and enjoying!  I like Cara too…  and who would want Draco out of character?  He's so, um, intriguing the way he is…  *licking lips*

MetroDweller – After Book 5, I just can't see Harry staying quite as sweetly naïve as he has been…  In my twisted world, Harry's got a little bit of mess to work through before he's ok again.  (Anyone smell the foreshadowing? Heh heh heh)

**To all readers – this chapter contains what in America is underage drinking, although I believe it's legal in Britain.  Either way, don't complain, it's just a story and part of my plot.

Chapter 21

Draco didn't drop his wand; his hand was steady and level as he pointed it between Potter's eyes.  "What do you want, Potter?" he said coldly.

The other boy seemed to be ignoring the fact that Draco had a drawn wand on him – something either very brave or very stupid.  Instead, he reached down and came up with a package in his hands, saying something soft to someone below, then he dropped the trap door shut.  Draco didn't move.

Potter seemed to eye him in the cold darkness of the Astronomy Tower, his eyes glittering in the dark.  For a brief moment, Draco felt his head begin to ache, pressure beginning to well behind his eyes…

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" he hissed, fingers tightening on his wand, still trained on the Boy Wonder.  

Potter seemed to blink, and then a weary expression flashed over his face before he turned away.  Draco kept still, following the other's progress as he strolled over to a nearby bench, dropping down to sit casually, package next to him.  

"You might as well put that away, I'm not about to draw mine," Potter said mildly, opening the package.  He pulled out a short, squat bottle that looked vaguely familiar and proceeded to unscrew the top and lift it to his lips.  He took a long swallow before lowering it and looking back to Draco.  He held the bottle up.  "Figured you could use some, too."

Draco's mind worked furiously.  Was this some kind of trick?  What was Potter trying to pull, here?

A corner of the other boy's mouth lifted in a rather uncharacteristically sardonic smile.  "Ron's watching the door, no one's coming in tonight."  The smile twisted a bit more.  "Hermione's helping him, although she's probably still muttering foul things about the evils of liquor.  Poor Ron."

Draco stood a moment longer, before slowly, he lowered his wand.  Potter still held the bottle up and out.  Another moment passed, and then Draco shoved his wand in his pocket, and reached for the bottle.  He squinted at it in the dark.  Ogden's finest.  Well, well, well, apparently Perfect Potter had a 'bad' side after all.  He lifted the bottle to his lips and took one long swallow.  It burned all the way down his throat, landing in his stomach with a fiery heat that wasn't unwelcome.  

He handed the bottle back as he sat.  "I still don't like you, you know," he said.

Potter shrugged as he took another drink.  "I don't like you much, either."

Draco accepted it back.  "Where did you get this?" he asked.

Potter snorted as Draco swallowed.  "Ron got it from one of his brothers.  He was saving it for a special occasion."

Draco grimaced as he passed the bottle again.  "So many damn Weasleys," he said.  "I don't like them, either."

Potter grinned as he lifted the bottle.  "They aren't terribly fond of you, either.  Probably no one but Cara and Professor Stone are, actually."

Draco shrugged and stared out at the night sky.  "Yeah," he muttered.  

The next hour, half hour, two hours, he wasn't sure, passed in what became an increasingly pleasant blur of silent brooding and drinking.  He and the other boy next to him seemed absorbed in their own thoughts, their own problems.

It was Draco, who to his own surprise broke the silence first.  "I can't keep Cara," he said, slurring his words a bit.  

"At least you've had her," Potter mumbled.  "I can't have anyone.  Fucking Voldemort."

Draco laughed harshly and reached for the bottle again.  "Everyone who gets mixed up with the Malfoy's doesn't come out without scars.  I bet Cara's got some beauties right now."  He took a hard swallow.  It had stopped burning on the way down several inches of liquor ago.  

Potter slumped until he was sitting on the ground, propped against the bench, staring up at the sky.  "She loves you," he said slowly, carefully.

Draco snorted and took another swallow.  "So?" he said bitterly.  Meanwhile his chest got tight with a great _thump_.

Potter rolled his head around and stared at him in the dark.  "You can't throw away love," he said.  Those freaky green eyes glittered in the dark.  "It comes around to bite you in the ass."  He reached for the bottle, Draco handed it over.  "And Cara'll probably fucking kill you before she lets you shove her off."

Draco got an image of Cara storming in and banishing his socks, and his mouth turned over in an admittedly soppy grin.  Hell, he was drunk.  He was allowed.  "She banished my socks once," he said.  

Harry swallowed and smirked.  "Probably got that one from Ginny," he said.  "She likes to use it on her brothers."  The smile turned melancholy, and Draco was just drunk enough to be curious about it.  "Did it to me once, before school started."

"You've got a thing for the Weasleyette," Draco realized with the one remaining part of his brain that wasn't currently or on its way to being pickled.

Now it was Potter's turn to sound bitter.  "Can't," he said.  "I've got to kill fucking Voldemort," he drew out the name in a long, harsh sound.  "People around me are going to die.  I can't have anyone."

Draco slid down to sit on the cold stone floor himself, his head spinning a bit as he did.  Shit, he'd had more than he'd realized.  "Can't throw away love," he mocked.  "It'll bite you in the ass."

Potter laughed, an explosive and jarring sound in the cold, still night.  "That's you.  Me, I've got to have a date with fucking destiny.  _Damn_ Dumbledore."

"What, Potty gone off his hero?" Draco sneered, although it fell a bit flat, due to the alcohol.  

"I'm the hero, didn't you know?  Gotta save the whole damn world, or it's hell on earth.  No one asked fucking me if I wanted the damn prophesy."  Potter was mumbling now, and Draco's head was beginning to ache again, this time a shallow pain inside his head that was steadily building.

"Potter!" he finally barked, reaching over with a foot and kicking the other boy in the shins.  "Quit, damn it!  I don't know what you're doing, but it bloody hurts!"

The pain stopped abruptly, and Potter scrubbed a hand over his face.  "I'm drunk," he said, dropping his hand and tilting his head back.  "Got less control that way.  Sorry."

"Just quit," Draco muttered.  The working part of his brain was recoiling at the fact that he was sitting, drinking and having a conversation with Harry Potter, long-time nemesis.  "Why can't the old man do it himself?"

This time the laugh was loud and bitter.  "Goddamn prophesy, that's why.  One can't exist while the other lives.  Kill or be bloody well killed."  Potter pointed a wobbly thumb at himself.  "That's me."  

Draco shut his mouth.  He was having trouble processing it all, and at the moment didn't really care.  "Life sucks," he said. And reached for the bottle.

"Yeah," Potter muttered.

**********

Draco must have slept, or passed out, or something, because the next thing he knew, he was sitting with a crick in his neck and really cold feet in the pale morning sun.  He squinted against the light, resisting the urge to groan.  Fuck, fuck, fuck.  He'd raided his father's liquor before, sometimes with company, sometimes without.  It depended on whether he'd been partying or trying to drown a beating.  He knew a hangover when it smacked him upside the head.

There was movement a few feet away, and Draco whipped his head around too fast, and had to swallow the bile.  Potter groaned.  "Goddamn, I hate the morning after," the other boy muttered.  The black-haired boy lifted his head and looked over at Draco, green eyes narrowed against the light.

Draco glared at him.  "I don't like you," he gritted out.

Potter snorted and then winced.  "Same here," he said before taking a breath and pushing to his feet.  "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered, clutching his head.  "Hope Hermione's got over being mad to give me something for a hangover."

Draco just sat and watched the other boy make his way to the trap door, lift it, and gingerly start to climb down.  "Potter," he finally said, as the boy was halfway gone.  A green gaze met his own.  Draco couldn't say the words, not to the person who'd been his worst enemy, outside of his father, for so long.  Instead, he just gave a stiff nod, ignoring the roll of his stomach as he did.  

Potter stared at him a moment, and then one corner of his mouth twitched.  "Yeah, fuck you, too, Malfoy," he said.  And then he disappeared.  

Draco sat and stared out at the early morning, spread across the cold, frozen grounds of Hogwarts.  He'd gotten drunk with Potter last night, admitted he loved Cara to his worst enemy.  Although he wasn't sure if he was allowed to call the other boy that now.  Could you share a bottle of firewhiskey and still be enemies?

Draco sneered to himself.  Sure, why not, he decided.  He wasn't about to get buddy-buddy with Potty.  He just maybe wouldn't wish for his death anymore.  

He frowned at that thought, words from last night rattling around his brain.  Something about killing…  he couldn't remember.  What he _did _remember was Potter saying something about Cara…

Potter rolled his head around and stared at him in the dark.  "You can't throw away love," he said.  Those freaky green eyes glittered in the dark.  "It comes around to bite you in the ass."  He reached for the bottle, Draco handed it over.  "And Cara'll probably fucking kill you before she lets you shove her off."

Draco groaned aloud this time.  Fuck.  Cara.  Love.  When in Merlin's name, he wondered gloomily, had things gotten so complicated?  Malfoy's did not fall in love.  It was an unwritten rule.  They made pure-blooded marriages with wealthy families, had appropriate heirs, and kept their lineage clean and cold.  He stared out at the grounds.  Cara wasn't clean and cold.  She was messy and wild and warm and so very enveloping, in her very genuine realness.  

He sighed.  What was he going to do?

**********

Cara came awake slowly, and groaned as she realized she was aching and stiff as a board.  Dammit.  She _hated_ the hospital beds.  You'd think they'd be the most comfortable in the school, since you were already miserable if you had to sleep in one of them, but noooo…

Madam Pomphrey came bustling in, interrupting her thought process.  "Good morning, Miss McDouglas," she said chirpily.  "You're awake, right on schedule."  She started pouring all sorts of liquids into a glass.  "Drink this," she ordered.

As expected, it was foul and nasty and Cara gagged as she tried to swallow.  Meanwhile the matron was bustling about.  "You're fortunate, Professor Stone was able to heal the worst of your injuries," the matron was saying.  "That _crucio_ potion, really, quite effective.  Mr. Malfoy was able to leave last night…"

Cara's head whipped around at that.  "Draco's ok?" she asked anxiously.  Last thing she could remember was pointing her wand haltingly at Bellatrix's back as Draco had stumbled in front of her…  

Madam Pomphrey sniffed.  "Quite so," she said.  "I imagine he'll be in later this morning to see you, judging by the way I had to keep him out last night."  The matron was still muttering as she went through a curtain and disappeared.  

Cara shifted in the narrow bed and stared at the white curtains that hung about her bed.  Draco…  Bellatrix was either dead or in jail, she realized.  It was over.  She started to smile before another thought hit her.  It was over, she thought again.  Oh god.  She took a deep breath.  She had the sickening feeling that Draco was going to try and force her away, that last night would have scared him that much.  

She pressed a hand to her sore stomach, half her brain wondering how that had happened, and took another breath.  She was a Gryffindor.  He could run, but he couldn't hide, she thought determinedly.  

"Madam Pomphrey?" she called and swung the blankets away, wincing a bit as she did.  "I'd like to get up…"


	22. Fording the Deepest Waters

**There will be an epilogue, folks, so stick around for more!  And readers, do review and tell me if you've caught on to my hints about what _else_ will come in the future…

Chapter 22

Cara strode, well, walked rather gingerly, toward Gryffindor Tower.  She was a girl on a mission.  And at the moment her mission was to find one Ginny Weasley, also newly released from the Hospital Wing and currently alledged to be residing in the Gryffindor common room.

Her stomach was still a little sore, apparently from getting hit with the _crucio_ curse while unconscious.  Apparently it had rearranged certain internal organs, hence the soreness.  Cara wrinkled her nose as she thought of it and came to a careful stop in front of the Fat Lady.

"Oh, my dear girl, you're out of the Hospital Wing!" the Fat Lady exclaimed, looking anxious.  "You shouldn't be wandering about alone, you should have one of those fine strong boys lending you a sturdy arm…"

Cara grinned.  Ah, it was good to be back.  "Yeah, well, there's really only one I want, and right now, I've got to figure out how to keep him from running away," she said cheerfully.  "Mouse feet," she added, and the portrait swung open, the Fat Lady still mumbling about how chivalry was all but dead and back in _her_ day, a girl wouldn't have been allowed to walk the corridors without some fine strapping young buck to assist her…

Cara stepped into the common room and looked around.  It was pretty quiet, only a few students were sitting and working on homework.  In the far corner, she spotted Ginny, comfortably wedged into an armchair, a cushion behind her back and an ottoman under her feet, and her brother hanging over her like an anxious parent.  Hermione was sitting next to her, looking mildly exhasperated and more than a little amused, probably at Ron's expense.  And Harry was sitting back a little, eyes opaque and face fondly mocking.

Ginny looked up just then and gave a little squeal.  "Cara!" she said, and pointed.  "Slave, bring her to me!"

Cara's jaw dropped as Ron promptly started to stride to her.  Harry snickered.  Hermione giggled, and Cara took a step backward.  "Oh no you don't," she said, putting up her hands to ward off a now grinning Ron.  

"Come on then, Cara," Ron said as he caught her.  Very carefully, he scooped her up off her feet and started to carry her over to where Ginny was sitting, ignoring the fact that Cara was sputtering and swatting at him.  "Oi, Harry, give over that chair, would you?" he said to his friend, and proceeded to lower Cara into the now-vacated seat.  

Cara crossed her arms and gave a huff, glaring first at Ron, then at Ginny.  "You little witch," she sniffed.  

Ginny grinned.  "I know, I know, I'm wonderful, you don't have to say it," she said.  She looked up at her brother.  "Ronsie, I could use something nice and cool from the kitchens," she said in a cooing voice.  Ginny was on quite a tear, Cara could tell.  She had that look in her eyes that said she was enjoying herself quite a bit and didn't intend to stop anytime soon.  

"And you, young lady," she said, turning back to Cara as her big, doting idiot of a brother headed for the door and presumably the kitchens, "why'd you walk back from the Hospital Wing alone?  I was going to have Ron and Harry come get you, if Draco didn't get there first."

Cara grimaced as she shifted a little, trying to get comfortable.  "I haven't seen Draco yet today," she said.

Both Ginny's eyebrows shot up.  Even Hermione looked surprised.  Harry, leaning against the wall a few feet away, however, didn't change expression.  Hmm…  Cara thought.  

"He hasn't?  Merlin, the boy had to be dragged out of there last night," Hermione said, leaning forward.  

"Really," Cara said, fixing her eyes on Harry.  He didn't move, but did get a slightly uncomfortable look on his face as he looked down at the top of Hermione's head.

"That is weird.  Draco's like a completely different person with you.  I would have sworn he would have forced his way into the ward one way or another," Ginny said, frowning.

"Yeah, I kind of thought so too, and then it occurred to me: he's scared," she said, eyes still fixed on Harry's face.  Hermione noticed this and gave a quick glance at her, then Harry, then her again.  And frowned.  Ginny didn't notice, she was thinking too hard.  

"Scared of what?"  her red-headed friend asked.

Cara tilted her head to one side, watching as Harry reluctantly met her eyes.  A small headache started behind her eyes, but she was half-expecting that.  It was something to do with Harry and him focusing on you…  "He's scared because I got hurt and he couldn't stop it," she said, locking eyes with the boy on the other wall.  "Because he knows that he can't put me in a glass box and keep everything bad from happening to me.  And because he knows that I'm going to come after him, and he's worried I'm going to find him and change his mind."

Ginny was staring at Cara now, she could feel the other girl's gaze.  Cara was still looking at Harry.  A muscle jumped in his jaw, and he was the one to look away.  "Draco knows he can't protect you from everyone else," Hermione said softly.  Cara glanced over at her to see a look of complete understanding in the older girl's eyes.  Hermione was a clever witch, she could read the undercurrents in the conversation.  Cara looked at Ginny to see a hint of sorrow in those brown eyes.  Ginny understood too.  

"Draco's a fool," Ginny said clearly, looking at Cara.  "He'd throw away the most important thing in the world, someone who loves him, all because he can't keep you safe?  Who says it's his job to keep you safe, who says you _want_ to be safe?"  Ginny shook her head and added quietly, "It's our fight, too."

Cara smiled a bit grimly.  "I know it is.  You know it is, Hermione knows it."  She glanced up, but found that Harry had slipped away.  Hah.  Coward.  She was pretty sure she knew what was up with him, but she wouldn't say anything.  Ginny would tell her when she needed her.  She leaned forward, wincing a bit at the pain in her stomach.  "Now I just need to make sure Draco knows it."

A twinkle sprang into Hermione's eyes.  "I have just the thing," she said.

**********

Draco was sitting at lunch, quietly poking at what was probably a very good casserole.  He didn't have the appetite to swallow, however.  It had been five days since he'd gotten drunk with Potter.  Three days since Cara had been released from the Hospital Wing.  And an achingly long time since he'd held her.

Draco gritted his teeth.  He was a Malfoy, he told himself.  Malfoy's did not give in to pain, to emotion.  He would get through this and Cara would be all the safer for it.  He'd avoided all contact with her, eating at odd times, even going so far as to avoid her Gryffindor friends eyes as he crossed classrooms to seats alone in the corner.  

He didn't know yet what he would do about Potions, however.  He had to sit and work with Potter, and while he didn't think the other boy would bother him about it, that little drunken conversation they'd had made him nervous.  And he didn't like that feeling.  Not to mention that sooner or later, he'd have to deal with tutoring and that meant being face to face with the girl herself.  

He poked again at the food on his plate before setting down his fork and standing up.  Bloody hell, he needed to snap out of this.  So what if it felt like his reason, his meaning was gone?  He'd never needed it before, and he could certainly do without it now.  

He'd taken only two steps away from the Slytherin Table, when he was suddenly surrounded by flying…  envelopes?  They zoomed about, brushing his hair and making him duck reflexively as one came a bit too close to his face for comfort.  He scowled.  Great, just great, someone decided to try and prank him?  His mood blackened further.  He'd make them pay.  

Draco pulled out his wand.  People were starting to stare, and he had no desire to find himself a topic of Hogwarts gossips.  "_Finite incantatem_!" he snapped, flicking his wand at the nearest envelope.  To his surprise, instead of falling to the floor like he expected, all the envelopes proceeded to line up in the air in front of him.  There were five in all, he saw, angry still but now puzzled.  Why hadn't the charm worked?  There wasn't much that couldn't be finished with it…

Then the first envelope opened like it was a mouth about to speak, and Draco froze.  Oh no.  

"_Draco Malfoy, you are hereby invited on a date!_" it announced.  Draco felt the blood drain from his face.  It couldn't be what he thought…

The second envelope chimed in.  "_This date will take occur at the time and place of your choosing_," it said.  Oh really, Draco thought sarcastically.  If this was what he thought, he'd kill her…

Now the third.  "_Don't try to weasel out of it, because I know how to find you_," it warned.  Pretty much everyone in the room was staring at him now.

"_And there's plenty of people willing to help me_," said the fourth.

And finally the fifth.  "_Oh and by the way,_" it's voice becoming decidedly mischievous.  Draco ducked a split second too late as he was suddenly dive-bombed by the envelopes.  All five planted rather scratchy kisses on his face before zooming backward.  

"_I love you!_" they all chimed together before exploding into lots of little butterflies that proceeded to flit about the now eagerly chattering Great Hall.

Draco scowled deep and dark and headed straight for the exit.  Damn the girl.  He'd been publicly avoiding her for her own bloody sake, and she went and did something like this?  What kind of female gave a declaration like that, in front of the whole school, by enchanted letter, no less?  When he got his hands on her, he'd throttle the living daylights out of her, right before he got her between him and a flat surface and kissed out all the crazy insane worry and fear that had him tied in knots.

Draco was fuming so much as he strode out the doorway, that he neglected to remember the fact that he was to avoid the girl in question at all costs.

**********

Cara was comfortably ensconced in the Astronomy Tower.  She was dressed from head to toe in her prettiest clothes, had her cloak with a wonderful warming charm courtesy of Hermione, and had her trap all set.  She glanced around with a grin.  She had a feeling that Ron's anxious hovering over his sister would end soon, but in the meantime he was _so_ useful.  And Harry came along with him, since his taller friend had merely hooked an arm around his neck and dragged.  

She surveyed the tower with great satisfaction.  It might be cold and window outside the tower, but inside, little heaters had been placed about to warm the cold stone.  The boys had carted a ton of transfigured pillows and things and been forced to move them here and there as the girls directed them, Harry finally throwing his hands in the air and telling them they were bloody witches, just use a levitation charm.

Now the Tower was bathed in a soft evening glow as the sun was starting to sink lower in the sky.  They had food, they had drink, they had soft places to sit and lie.  She adjusted the snug bodice of the pretty muggle dress she was wearing.  Really, muggles had a much nicer sense of style then wizards.  Her nails and hair were done, and she'd never looked better.  Ginny had promised.  

She glanced at the sun.  It was starting to get a bit late…  would he not figure it out?  She'd thought he'd know exactly where to go, Draco being a rather clever wizard and all.

Just then the trap door banged open and she jumped a bit, caught off guard.  And then grinned as the scowling blonde head of the boy in question came through the floor.  He glared around with narrowed eyes, and proceeded to climb through and stalk over to where she was sitting.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" he demanded, not wasting any time.  Cara gazed up at him, feeling soft, warm feelings wash over her.  It was a little funny, especially since he was currently fixing his meanest, scariest look on her, the one that made first-years cry and wet their pants.  She smiled.  He couldn't scare her anymore.  

"Hi," she said easily.  "I take it you got my message?"

He glared at her before whirling to pace away.  "Yes, I got it," he flung back over his shoulder.  "Dammit, girl, can't you take a hint?  I've stayed away from you for a very good reason.  You'd think that someone who claims to be top of her classes would have figured it out by now."

"Figured out what?" she asked, deciding she'd let him just go ahead and say it before she pointed out the error of his ways.  She saw the trap door close silently, and made a mental note to remember to thank Hermione.

He turned and snarled at her, some part of her mind eerily reminded of a certain nasty professor.  "I. Don't. Want. You." He enunciated clearly.  "You cause problems, you get in the way, and you force me to go after you in dangerous situations."

Cara laughed, long and clear and clearly amused.  He stopped to stare at her.  "You think that's funny?" he asked fiercely.  

She smiled at him, and letting her cloak drop off, stood and started walking slowly toward him.  Much to her amusement, he took a step backward, then another.  She stalked him to the other side of the tower.  "I think it's very funny," she said softly.  "Because you most definitely want me, Draco.  You want me so much, you'd do anything to keep me safe.  Including push me away."

Draco had backed up nearly to the wall.  He was eyeing her with a great deal of caution.  "I don't know what you're talking about."

Cara sighed and shook her head as he bumped into the stone wall.  She sauntered right up to him, and reached out to rest her hands on his chest.  His very, very nice, firm chest.  "Yes, you do," she said gently.  "And it won't work.  I'll come back every damn time, Draco.  Because I happen to know what you don't."

"What's that?" he demanded.  His face had gotten very tight, like he was trying not to do something.  Hmm…  

She slipped her hands slowly up until they rested at the base of his neck, fingers lightly stroking.  "I know that it doesn't matter if someone tries to hurt me," she said, looking straight up into stormy gray eyes.  "I know that sooner or later, someone's going to try.  And I know that it's going to happen whether or not I'm with you."  His jaw clenched at that.  She sighed.  "Draco, there's going to be war.  It's going to be ugly.  And I'm going to be in it," she told him seriously.  "I have to be.  Too many people who matter to me are involved, and besides, it's just wrong.  V-Voldemort's wrong," she said, stuttering the name for some reason.  

"I'll only make it worse," he said through tense lips.  Cara felt a well of satisfaction.  She had him.  

"You'll make it better," she said.  This time she cupped his face.  "The only thing that makes things like whats going to happen better," she said seriously, "is having someone to share with.  I love you, Draco," she said, and waited.  It was the first time she'd said it to him, the letters not counting.  

He just stared down at her, those beautiful eyes dark and turbulent and swirling with questions.  "Dammit, Cara," he whispered.  "You weren't supposed to happen."

She gave him a surprisingly cheeky grin.  "What, you mean a little Gryffindor brat cornering the high and mighty Slytherin up in the Astronomy Tower and snogging his brains out?" she asked.

He closed his eyes at that and she waited.  He had to realize it himself, had to see…  she'd laid it out as plain as she could, all but offered herself on a golden platter…

And then he opened his eyes and looked down at her, and she felt his hands slip about her waist.  Her heart leapt.  "I think you have it wrong," he said in a growl.  

She gave a little gasp as he proceeded to sweep her up and carry her in long strides back across the room.  "How's it go, then?" she asked dizzily.  

He set her down on some of the pillows and leaned close, his face, his body tantalizingly near her own.  She ached and waited.  "He wanted to be cornered, and she just had to show him," he said.  And then he kissed her, and stars rang, birds sang and the moon exploded into a thousand glittering shards.  And damn, it was good.


	23. Past, Present, Prologue

**The promised epilogue!  Which is also a bridge to what will come next…  look for something in the next week or two.  I'm still lining up my plot pieces.

MetroDweller – You're so smart!  *beaming proudly*  And I was rather fond of that chapter too…  I like a little mush and a little smart-ass mixed together.  Hence the following little scene…  *licking lips*

Shahrezad1 - *blowing kisses*  I can always count on you to bolster my ego, can't I?  As for Harry getting the hint, he's not a stupid boy.  But he _is_ a boy, unfortunately.  (heh heh heh…)

To everyone:  Thank you for reading!  Please stay tuned for the final story in this little series.

Epilogue

Cara was warm and comfortable and she had no intention of moving.  Hence when someone poked her in the side, she growled something rather unkind and very determinedly kept her eyes shut.  

A low chuckle made them pop open another moment later.  She looked up with absolute astonishment at Draco's face, leaning over her.  Her eyes instinctively dropped down to his bare chest, and then she turned a bright red.  She could almost feel the ends of her hair sizzle, she was blushing so hard.  

"I really didn't realize you blushed all the way down to your toes, McDouglas," Draco said in that lazy voice that was just _so_ sexy.  Which made her blush harder, dammit.  "I think I rather like it."

Cara forced herself to glare at him.  "Jerk," she mumbled.  Once again, trying not to look down, _past_ that nice, bare chest…

He chuckled again, and she found herself tucked up against him in short order, him leaning over her just a bit.  His face was serious, and his eyes soft, and she watched him with a bit of awe.  She'd never seen him like this, so open, so, well, happy.

He stroked a finger down the side of her face.  "Good morning," he said softly.  

She smiled, even though she was still red.  "Good morning," she said back, just as softly.  

He was watching her with those silver eyes, warm, liquid silver that she'd drown in any day.  "Thank you," he said, voice still quiet.  

NOW she really blushed.  "Umm…" she mumbled, not really sure how to answer that.  After all, she hadn't really planned on doing everything they'd ended up, well, doing last night.  Ok, maybe the possibility had crossed her mind once or twice, after all, she _had_ gotten that Contraceptive Charm out of _Witch Weekly_…  but really, that had just been planning way ahead.  

One corner of his mouth quirked at that.  "For that, too," he said, a fairly smug look settling on his face.  Cara resisted the urge to roll her eyes.  Men.  Yeesh.  

"No," he said, looking serious again.  "Thank you for not letting me leave you," he said, intent on her.  Cara wasn't sure she could have moved if she wanted to, not with him looking at her with all that warmth in his eyes, his voice.  

"I love you," she told him.  

He traced that finger over her face again, drifting it across her cheek, the bridge of her nose, tracing her lips.  "Malfoys don't love," he said seriously.  "They marry well, have heirs, have an affair or two for the pure physical pleasure."  He was silent for a moment and Cara waited, a little tense.  She was fairly sure of him and how he felt, but he still hadn't said it…

"But you," he said softly, and she relaxed.  "You make everything different."  She reached up and kissed him then, really unable to resist it.  He was so damn handsome and sincere.  He kissed her quite thoroughly back before pulling away just a bit.  

Draco looked down at her very solemnly.  "I…" he started, and then swallowed.  Cara felt like crying.  She'd wager he'd never said the words to someone before, not with his family.  He took a deep breath.  "I love you," he said in a bare whisper.

She wrapped her arms tight about him and held on, bare skin pressing, hearts beating and love just pouring off of her.  Sure, they were young, and who knew if this would be forever.  But for right now, it was all that mattered.  And some sneaking part of her, the part that had always wondered if Divination wasn't _completely_ a crock, whispered that it was more than that.

For now though, she was content to hold the boy she loved as close as she could.  

**********

Harry Potter sat in a dusty, abandoned classroom on the North side of the castle and stared out the window at the bright sunshine.  Everyone else was doing something, outside taking in one last oddly warm fall day, or playing games with friends, or working homework in the Common Room.  Ron was currently wiping the floor with Hermione in chess, and having a great time doing it.  Hermione, of course, was absolutely positive there had to be a way to beat the Gryffindor chess master, and was probably muttering foul things and planning a trip to the library for books on chess strategy.  

And Ginny was probably egging the two of them on, waiting and watching for Cara to come back from the Astronomy Tower.  As far as he knew, she and Draco were still up there, which spelled good things for those two.  He could even think kindly enough of Draco to wish him and Cara the best of luck.  Not that he was about to get friendly with the prat, but Cara did seem to like him.  

Harry scrubbed a hand over his face and stared out the window.  And here he was, sitting in the dust by himself.  

He hadn't missed Cara pointed conversation last night, he'd known exactly what she was talking about.  Unfortunately for Cara, and Hermione and Ginny, they _didn't_ know everything.  That damned prophesy.  And now, these new powers…

Harry looked away from the window and glared down at his hands.  They hadn't helped him much against Bellatrix.  Sure, his spells were becoming stronger than he'd ever though possible.  Sure, it was starting to make Ron and Hermione notice.  But they'd failed him when it had mattered.  Bellatrix had just been too damned fast and sneaky and, well, crazy.  

Just for the hell of it, Harry pointed at an empty, dusty bookcase.  "_Scourgify_," he muttered, and watched the grime vanish and a hint of lemon fill the air.  He dropped his hand and sighed.  He'd better not do that around anyone.  He was enough of an oddity already, besides, it was always better to keep things like that to himself.  Someday, he might need the element of surprise.  

Pulling out his wand, he examined it closely.  Twirling it through his fingers, he pointed it at the same bookshelf.  "_Reducto_," he said.  The case shrunk faster than he could blink, until it could no longer be seen from where he sat.  

Harry's lips twisted.  What good was all this magic if he couldn't harness it?  If he couldn't use it when it mattered?

He could always go to Dumbledore and ask him for help.  Harry snorted softly.  Not bloody likely.  Something had happened between the two of them, ever since he'd been told about the prophesy, ever since he'd destroyed Dumbledore's office.  He just didn't trust him like he used to, not that blind faith that the old man had the answer to every question.  Dumbledore was just as human as the rest of them, and he'd made of couple of clear mistakes as far as Harry could see.  And given the fact that Harry was still more than a little angry over not being told about his own life, he wasn't about to go ask the Headmaster for help.

He sighed and rubbed his face.  That left out Professor Lupin, too, who'd promptly turn to Dumbledore.  In fact, as far as he could see, it left really only himself, especially when you factored in that no one else knew about the prophesy.

At least he'd somehow managed to keep bloody Voldemort out of his head.  He wasn't sure how, but some time during the summer he'd flipped some switch in his head and it was like there was a wall between the two of them.  Which was a great relief.  Sure, he had the occasional nightmare, but it was a hell of a lot better than last year.  Now if he could just get a handle on the way he seemed to see inside people's heads if he looked too hard…

It was all about learning control, he decided as he pocketed his wand.  And it was something he was going to have to figure out himself.  That meant the library, it meant practice time away from the others.  Both of which were going to be hard to do.  Especially the way Ginny had started keeping an eye on him…

He rubbed his head again.  Ginny.  Damn it all.  His lips twisted in a rather uncharacteristically bitter smile.  What was it he'd said to Draco when they'd been smashed that night?  _You can't throw love away, it'll come back and bite you in the ass_.  Or something along those lines.  

He snorted.  He didn't get that option.  He had to kill bloody Voldemort, and anyone who got too close to him was certain, abso-bloody-lutely certain to be a target.  He wasn't about to put anyone in that position, especially not Ginny.  She'd been through enough already.

He sighed and forced those thoughts away.  He had work to do, he though, and got up, turning away from the window and the bright sunlight outside.  He would have to start now, because he had the feeling that there wasn't all the time in the world left.  Hogwarts would end, sooner or later, and if he wasn't ready…  

It wasn't all that fun, though the Boy-Who-Lived bitterly as he strode down the empty hallways toward the library, to have to save the world.  Not fun at all.


End file.
